


Bases Loaded, Guns Loaded

by FigureSgayts



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: (It's Lafayette), Alternate Universe - Baseball, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Basically Lafayette gets a crush on the cute new player on the other team, Fluff, It's gross, Mutual Pining, Non-binary character, Other, Slow(ish) Burn, That one baseball fic only one person ever asked for
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-18
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-06-02 23:01:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 38,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6586315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FigureSgayts/pseuds/FigureSgayts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The loud sounds of the crowd long ago stopped phasing Lafayette when they walk to the mount. They easily drown the noise out, a cocky grin set into place as they fiddle with the blue cap resting on their head, ball gripped loosely in their other hand.</p><p>It's Lafayette’s third year as the starting pitcher for the Blue Jays, and the twenty-four year old’s fourth year playing major league all together. Despite the years of playing, every new game continues to bring a new rush with the first few moments before the game really kicks off. There's always a familiar flow of adrenaline as they look up at the crowd with a smile that's captivated the media since day one, examining the audience that accumulates in every stadium to watch the game, to watch them play. Lafayette lives for the feeling, for all the attention thrown at them.</p><p>However, none of these years of experience prepared Lafayette for the Philadelphia Phillie's new first baseman, Hercules Mulligan, and his bright smile that won't leave their head no matter what they do. (Or who.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yo, this is not the only story I am writing, so if updates are slow, feel free to sneak into my house and point a gun at my head until I get a new chapter out. I also have no beta, so I again say, feel free to sneak into my house and point a gun at my head whenever you find a mistake because chances are I didn't find the mistake because I got bored proofreading it.
> 
> I really really wanted to write this after spending like.. an hours discussing it with someone??? So I decided that I will write it. I know baseball..ish. I kinda do. I used to. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> On that note: I know I'm breaking a lot of rules in baseball and it's not super duper accurate, but for fiction purposes, it's happening. I'm not completely shitting on the game, but it's not 100% accurate.

The loud sounds of the crowd long ago stopped phasing Lafayette when they walk to the mount. They easily drown the noise out, a cocky grin set into place as they fiddle with the blue cap resting on their head, ball gripped loosely in their other hand. 

This is Lafayette’s third year as the starting pitcher for the Blue Jays, and the twenty-four year old’s fourth year playing major league all together. Despite the years of playing, every new game continues to bring a new rush with the first few moments before the game really kicks off. There's always a familiar flow of adrenaline as they look up at the crowd with a smile that's captivated the media since day one, examining the audience that accumulates in every stadium to watch the game, to watch them play. Lafayette lives for the feeling, for all the attention thrown at them.

They kick the mound, looking at the ground below them before looking up at the first batter. The bright red uniforms of the Phillies provides a nice contrast with the single blue man provided by the catcher. Lafayette makes contact first with the batter, and then with the catcher. In one fluid motion, they draw the ball back and throw.

The ball curves perfectly before hitting the catcher's glove, the batter having made no move to hit it. As a series of claps goes through the crowd, Lafayette straightens their back with pride. Off to as good of a start as they could hope for. When the ball is thrown back to them, Lafayette gives only a moment before they set the game back into motion with the next pitch, easily falling into the familiar, rhythmic chaos of a baseball game.

Five batters in and Lafayette is slightly thrown off. The man up to bat looks hot, they have no other way to put it. And yeah, Lafayette is under no impression that the other players don't all have things going for them, but this one is definitely something. He's large, and the uniform can only hide so much of the muscled torso and arms and legs and okay, Lafayette _really_ thinks the guy looks pretty damn fine. They could definitely get with that.

They lick their lips quickly, and plaster their signature shit eating grin on when they catch the batter’s eyes. And then they're throwing the ball hard and fast, and if the pitch isn't quite as well as they normally are, Lafayette doubts it'll matter. The man seems completely thrown off by the incoming ball. And _damn_ does he look good swinging a bat. It's rather unfortunate it's a foul, as it was a good, strong hit.

This has to be the man's first year playing major league. There is no way Lafayette wouldn't have noticed him before this, wouldn't have noticed the way those shoulders looked while swinging, the way, despite his size, he seemed to cut through the air with the quick motion, and how he carries himself with a sure grace about him. 

Lafayette’s eyes are alight when the ball comes back to them. The guy gets one more foul before the loud crack of the ball hitting the bat in just the right spot pierces the air, and it goes far and fast. There was no surprise for Lafayette with how far the ball went, not with the way the man was built, and as he runs to first, Lafayette is able to catch a glimpse of the back of his shirt. Mulligan. They are _not_ going to be looking up that name later in the night, just like when the man’s, Mulligan’s, ball is caught at the edge of the field, Lafayette does _not_ look at his ass when he runs back to the batting box.

 

Lafayette prides themselves in, overall, being a halfway decent player for MLB. They quickly snatched a position as starting pitcher after a year of being a relief, they can hit well, and as many men, and a few women, have told them before, they have real nice legs that do well with running. But it never hurts to have a little motivation to get them going.

Mulligan is apparently the first baseman, and if that doesn’t encourage Lafayette to hit the ball, they don’t know what will. So when the ball comes flying their way, they don’t hesitate when they swing. As soon as the ball goes, Lafayette drops the bat and goes off in a sprint, eyes more on Mulligan than the base ahead of them. A second after Lafayette hits the base, they hear and see the ball fly into Mulligan’s glove. They smile at the man’s head as he turns to throw the ball to the pitcher.

Mulligan looks even better up close, and Lafayette is overcome with the urge to touch his arms, causing them to quickly look to the next man up to bat. But they can still feel his presence, some of his body heat hitting them, and it takes all of their restraint to not do something stupid on national television with some 53.5k people watching from the crowd.

As soon as the next ball is flying, Lafayette somewhat reluctantly runs to second base, leaving behind Mulligan for the next man.

 

Lafayette easily catches sight of the retreating form of Mulligan an hour after the game, the man walking through the parking lot. Without really thinking, they jog over to the man, smiling when they tap his back. Mulligan turns around in surprise, an awkward yet lost smile on his face that really confirms Lafayette’s previous suspicions of the man being a first year.

“Uh, can I help you?” Mulligan asks awkwardly, eyes shifting around the parking lot, letting his smile drop a little.

Lafayette, however, manages to widen their grin, putting out their hand, which Mulligan takes hesitantly. “My name is Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette, but uh, most people just call me Lafayette or Gilbert,” they say quickly, firmly shaking Mulligan’s hand. That was a lie, nobody really calls them Gilbert, but Mulligan doesn’t need to know that. “You obviously aren’t from around here, and I was wondering if I could show you around as a congratulations for winning.” And maybe get a number.

A flash of shock runs across Mulligan’s face, and when he lets go of Lafayette’s hand, they experience a moment of disappointment before he answers. “Uh, yeah, sure, that’d be real nice. My name’s Hercules, by the way.” The slight disappointment clears away quickly, replaced by joy and excitement. Hercules. Lafayette likes that name. Hercules Mulligan. It fits.

“Great!” Lafayette exclaims, clapping their hands together. “I know a place with great chicken strips about two blocks from here.” At Hercules’ look of slight disgust and horror, Lafayette laughs. “I was simply joking with you, non? But they do have very good food, and I doubt you would have been able to find it on your own. It’s very small, a local diner, but it’s good, I’ll show you.”

“Yeah, okay, thanks.”

Lafayette has to keep from grinning stupidly at Hercules’ behavior. The man really is adorable. At the thought, they groan silently. They know it would never work, not with their jobs and the fact that they’re on opposing teams. That didn’t mean they couldn’t have one night with him.

“C’mon, follow me, I parked over on the other side of the parking lot,” Lafayette tells him, quickly walking away. They feel elated, and are grateful for the fact that Hercules can only see their back from behind them because they know they’re smiling like an idiot. But who can blame them? They pretty much just scored a date with a hot, awkward baseball player. And maybe Lafayette is also happy because they get to show off that they have money with their decked out camaro, but that’s just how they are.

 

Lafayette ordered chicken strips at the diner just to piss of Hercules, who ended up ordering a freaking burger. It was outrageous. Lafayette told him to order whatever he wants, to experiment a little, and he goes and gets a cheeseburger. Truly disgusting, he really has no room to talk about how bad chicken strips are when he’s going around eating that. Despite the food differences, and how Hercules rolled his eyes when Lafayette put in their order, they end up striking up small conversation easily.

“Is this your first year playing for the Phillies?” Lafayette asks unnecessarily.

“Hm, oh yeah, it is,” Hercules says, looking up from the burger in his hands. “And you’re on your third year with the Blue Jays?’

Lafayette smiles and shakes their head slightly. “You are close, mon ami, fourth year. Third as a starter, however. How old are you that you’re just starting?”

“Twenty-two next month,” Hercules answers. Lafayette can work with that. Only two years on the man, not bad at all. “Where are you from, Lafayette?”

Lafayette quickly swallows the piece of chicken in their mouth before smiling widely. “Ah, I grew up in Quebec and lived there until I was picked up by the team. I was born in France, however, and went there for summers until I was sixteen. It’s very pretty there, you should go there one day. Very good beaches, especially in the south west. While Paris is nice, you can’t get the full experience going alone as a tourist. It’s much nicer to go with somebody native to even just France as a whole.”

Hercules is watching Lafayette with intense rapture, and when Lafayette notices, he quickly looks away with a small blush. “That sounds nice, yeah. I’m from Ireland. I wasn’t really into baseball until I came to America. It’s nice over there too. Very green.”

“I’ll make a note to go one day,” Lafayette comments off hand, and they see Hercules smile softly. Lafayette likes his smile, they decide.

They finish their meals in a comfortable silence, the awkward tension of eating with a stranger easily dissolving after their talking. When the bill comes, Hercules pulls out his wallet, but Lafayette snorts and shakes their head. “No, I’m paying. Just say it’s part of that congratulations. You gave me a nice evening, as well.” 

When they get up, Hercules raises an eyebrow at Lafayette’s generous one hundred bill they leave as a tip, to which Lafayette just shrugs at. “I have the money to do it,” they say, and Hercules nods a little, but doesn’t look like he fully understands. 

Lafayette drives Hercules to his hotel, and right before he gets out of their car, they slip a note into his pocket.

 

Hercules doesn’t know what to think once he reaches his room. Lafayette was definitely something else. Very flirty, but that could just be their personality. Very cute, however. They had such a large smile, and Hercules wonders what their hair must look like when let down.

As he’s taking off his coat, Hercules notices a little slip of paper fall out of his pocket. Confused, he picks up the paper and unfolds it.

_**Here’s my number, you can text me whenever you want to if you wanna. Tonight was fun, and I wouldn’t mind showing you around a little bit.** _

At the end was a ten digit number and a smiley face.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all I know like.. nothing about Toronto and have only dreamed about going to the ROM (which is more next chapter, but still), so oops. I do have some help from people who have like... a shit ton more knowledge about this place than I do, but I'm really not running anything through them still so??? Yeah, sorry..ish.

**From: Unknown >> _Do you know any good places to get breakfast???_**

When Lafayette wakes up to the chime of their phone receiving a message, they’re rather peeved and still far from awake. They lazily bring their phone to their face, and as soon as they read the message, all feelings of tired leave their body. In all reality, Lafayette had not been expecting Hercules to have actually texted them, instead thinking that the man would be weirded out by the number and throw the slip of paper away, or even just not have noticed the paper in the first place.

They are not about to look a gift horse in the mouth and not respond to the message.

**To: Unknown >> _My friend!!!_**  
**To: Unknown >> _Well this is assuming that youre hercules and not another weird fan who managed to get my number_**  
**To: Unknown >> _Mon dieu the number is american there is actually a chance that you’re not mr mulligan_**  
**To: Unknown >> _Please tell me that this is you texting me, Hercules._**  
**From: Unknown >> _Every message you send me costs me money_**  
**To: Unknown >> _Oh yes sorry. So this is you hercules or no?_**  
**From: Unknown >> _Yes Laf, it’s me_**

Lafayette grins widely reading the text. Laf. That the man feels comfortable enough to be calling them by a nickname, no matter how small something like Laf is, makes them immeasurably happy.

**To: Herc :0 >> _Good good tres bon and I know where you are so when will you be ready to go? I know where to go_**  
**From: Herc :0 >> _im ready now_**  
**To: Herc :0 >> _I’ll be by your hotel in about 10 minutes ;*_**

Lafayette is simply ecstatic, jumping out of their bed and rushing to get their bus pass off of their dresser. As they pass the mirror in their room, they’re suddenly met face to face with themselves in nothing but sweatpants. Shit.

**To: Herc :0 >> _*20_**

 

“It is a beautiful morning, oui?” Lafayette asks Hercules. 

The two are sitting in a small corner of, much to Hercules’ exasperation, a Tim Hortons about ten minutes from Hercules’ hotel (Lafayette explained to Hercules that if they went to the one right next to the hotel, it would likely be busier than wanted). Hercules, as soon as he was told where he was being taken, had protested, saying that he could’ve found the place on his own, and that’s why he had asked Lafayette for the assistance. At Lafayette’s offended look, however, Hercules had quickly given in.

Hercules frowns a little at the question, looking out the window to his side. “It’s cloudy and looks like it’s going to rain,” he mumbles, brows drawn together. “Not what I would say a beautiful day.”

“Mhm, but better rain than snow. And it feels nice outside, that’s why we walked. It is not too hot, nor is it too cold, and we don’t have to worry about the sun blinding us while we try and cross streets,” Lafayette explains. “So the lack of sunlight takes away a bit of the brightness, there have been many worse conditions.” They watch Hercules as he stares out the window, letting the words sink into him. They can tell he is thinking, whether over what was told to him or something else, they have no way of knowing, but it’s nice to be able to watch him, deep in thought. They’re vaguely reminded of an artist looking at a beautiful landscape that they wish to sketch. It’s a beautiful sight.

“Do you like it here? It is home for me, but not for you.” It’s always something Lafayette thinks about. How do others see their home from the outside? Lafayette never much liked the small town in Quebec they grew up in, the small size and population much too confining for their extroverted self and large personality, something that often times gained their parents remarks about how they child was like a tornado of two hundred more children filling the halls of the school and sidewalks in the park. Toronto is definitely more Lafayette’s speed.

Hercules turns away from the window and studies Lafayette for a moment, the change in conversation giving a small shift to the atmosphere at the genuine curiosity their voice held when asking the question. “It’s nice,” he responds after a minute. “Very different architecture.” 

Lafayette laughs a little at the comment, but quickly stops when Hercules doesn’t continue. “Sorry, please continue, mon ami.”

“It reminds me a bit of NYC. Not in looks per say, but… It feels like a home I guess. Despite the size, there are not too many people, not nearly as many as back there. That’s my home, by the way. That’s where we went after Ireland. I don’t know what you want me to say I guess. I like it.”

Lafayette watches Hecures intently while he speaks, completely captured by his looks and voice. “Hm, I’ll have to go there some day to look around,” they say after a moment, leaning back in their seat comfortably. “Hopefully as more than a tourist. While tourism is great, do not get me wrong, I feel that you just can’t get the full experience as one. It’s truly a shame.” 

They lift up their cup of coffee in front of them, and catch Hercules’ eyes. “For now, however,” they say, a small smile on their lips, “I say, let us have a drink to the now and here.”

Hercules looks at them oddly before rolling his eyes and taking a drink of his own orange juice sitting in front of him on the table. When he puts it down, it’s with a smile on his lips.

“You do that a lot,” Lafayette points out, and Hercules gives them a confused stare. “This,” they explain, smiling widely and pointing to their mouth. “You smile almost thoughtlessly. It’s good, you’re very expressive. It looks good.” Hercules just nods his head dumbfounded, and Lafayette feels a tug in their chest at the sight. _Oh god,_ they think in slight horror. _I have no even known him for a day. Stupid French romantics, seduced by nothing but a flustered smile and handsome face._

“What is your schedule like today? Would I be able to show you around today?” Lafayette asks before Hercules can say anything, before their mind can get any more off track.

“Oh, I’m completely free today,” Hercules tells them, and they perk up at the information. And when Hercules smiles at them, Lafayette swears they’re about to melt in their seat.

“Okay, yeah, that is great,” Lafayette stumbles out, quickly rising from their seat. “We should catch a bus back to my apartment then so that I can grab a few things. Unless you need to get something from your room? Then I can walk you back there and go and get my things an-”

Hercules lets out a short, cut off laugh as he rises from his seat. “Hey, it’s okay man. I have everything I need, even some money for the bus that’s not on a card, slow down,” he says, and Lafayette nods a little. Right. Slow down, slow down. They apparently have all day with Hercules, and wow, isn’t that idea great?

“Mhm, okay, so just, follow me. And get some money out, yeah? Gotta take the bus,” Lafayette informs, walking to the entrance, coffee in hand. “I’m taking you to the ROM, by the way. I won’t let you leave this city without going there, and th-”

“Do you always talk this much?”

Only when nervously distracted by hot Irish-American baseball players. “No, sorry, just thinking out loud.” Lafayette shoots Hercules a quick smile as they hold the door for Hercules.

The bus ride is great, and Lafayette gets to sit for ten minutes, maybe two inches away from Hercules, thinking about just how gay they are and how much they are really crushing on Hercules Mulligan, first baseman for Philadelphia Phillies, an opposing team, and just how screwed that makes them. Now, is that going to make them think about just what they’re doing and suddenly, smartly, decide to not indulge in any fantasies and have a sudden meeting pop up that day to stop this get out? Absolutely not. There would be absolutely no fun and drama in that, and if there is something Lafayette is, it is dramatic. They live for these things.

At the apartment, Hercules offers to just wait outside for Lafayette, but they will not be having that. “You were just telling me a bit ago about how this weather isn’t your favorite, and what happens if it starts raining? I do not plan to be long, but I do not know, so you can come with me. I promise I am not planning on killing, my friend,” is the explanation they give him, and Hercules just shrugs and follows them into the building.

Lafayette does not have the biggest apartment in the building, or the fanciest, but it is very much home for them. And home means that not everything is put away, and they are just really noticing how at home it is for them when they walk in and find themselves being greeted with three sets of keys on the floor, the entire Harry Potter series on the couch, alongside copies of the Lord of the Ring trilogy in French (which they cannot understand how anybody can read in English, it is an abomination), and three cups on their counter. Oops.

“Sorry about the mess, wasn’t really expecting visitors over,” Lafayette apologizes halfheartedly, flicking their hand around the two rooms. “You can just wait on the couch or something, I should only be a minute. The remote should be under The Prisoner of Azkaban or something.” And without turning to look to see what Hercules does, they quickly make their way to their bedroom, closing the door behind them.

There’s a moment where Lafayette worries this could be the only day they see Hercules off the field again, the last day before they are once again only opponents ready to face each other, and in that moment, they contemplate doing something incredibly stupid and inappropriate. Like locking him in the house and keeping him there forever, or cutting off his hand so they can have a piece of him forever, or “tripping” and kissing him senseless. Instead, they grab some discarded cards from their dresser and go to the mirror to pull their hair out of its hold. Better lower the risks of being recognized now. 

 

Lafayette walks into the museum with an almost childish delight, Hercules not far behind. He had already been caught admiring the outside structure of the building, which caused Lafayette to swell with joy. They thought he’d like this, and it’s appearing as if they were correct. As soon as Hercules gets a look at the entrance, he’s in awe, eye wide and he takes it all in. Lafayette is swelling with pure delight at the situation.

Lafayette pulls out forty dollars at the front desk, smiling charmingly at the girl, Maria is he’s correct, running the admission. “Bonjour, I need two tickets, s’il vous plait,” they all but purr, sliding the money across the counter to her, causing her to roll her eyes.

“Sure thing, hot shot,” she replies, taking the money and handing them back a few coins. Before they can walk away, she leans across the desk slightly, urging Lafayette to do the same. “Try not to leave this one hanging there, sweetie. He looks like a lost puppy, kiddo.”

“I am three years older than you, do not call me kiddo,” they grunt, flickering their eyes to Hercules who did indeed look slightly out of place as he continues to look around with fascination. “Nothing will happen, beau, this is all out of the kindness of my heart. He seemed just as lost, if not a little more, yesterday when I picked him up in the parking lot.”

Maria’s eyes widened at the comment. “Please tell me you didn’t just pick up a fan from the parking lot.”

Lafayette snorts. “Ah, no, I am not stupid enough to do that more than twice. No, he was playing for the other team.”

“Oh my god, Lafayette, you are horrible!” she hisses, pushing them away. “Really, you are helpless, setting this horrible example for me. Tsk tsk.”

It’s Lafayette’s turn to roll their eyes, but they lean away from the counter and make a gesture to Hercules to move forward. “Come along, there is much to see and only so much of the day to do it,” they shout, earning a laughing shush from Maria. When Hercules quickly comes to their side they lean in and, with a dramatic stage whisper, inform him of how there are dinosaurs here, but no, they are not alive dinosaurs as dinosaurs have in fact been dead for billions of years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love any of you who are actually opening this up and getting through two chapters of my writing ;*


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is being uploaded from my phone... my guys... I spent ten minutes trying to get only chapter 3 copied from my docs.

Lafayette does their best to try and get Hercules out of what seemed to almost be a shell, until they realize he’s not a uncomfortable as originally assumed, merely silently admiring the exhibits around him. Each new gallery on the first level brings about a minute or two of him simply examining the architecture, but Lafayette is pleased to see that he does spend the majority of the time that the two spend in each gallery intently studying what is on display.

However, Lafayette is getting a little impatient at just how long Hercules takes to look at everything, the pace slow and dragging on. While they know Hercules has never been here before, meaning there’s no way that he’s ever seen some of these galleries like Lafayette has on numerous occasions (some of them are still new to them thanks to the ever changing material on display), but they want to look at the dinosaurs. Specifically, the newest one at the ROM. Perhaps it’s a bit due to their childish fascination with the dinosaurs that has Lafayette so impatient on the topic. They’ve always wanted to discover new and old things alike, and what better way to do that than with fossils? When found, fossils were not only new to the world at being seen, but old in the sense that they are generally millions of years old. Lafayette remembers one particular summer where they had declared quite boldly to their mother that they wanted to be an archaeologist when they grew up because “dinosaurs are cool”. Their mother only laughed and told them that they wanted to be a paleontologist, not an archaeologist, at which Lafayette had simply huffed and said that dinosaurs didn’t care about such mistakes and words. So yeah, being able to be up close to dinosaurs makes Lafayette feel a bit of childish glee and excitement, but they don’t mind. It’s a happier piece of their childhood.

Lafayette is bold, always has been, and isn’t one to sit about quietly and impatiently, waiting for what they want, not if what they want doesn’t technically need to be waited for. They walk over to Hercules, who is reading a little description in front of what looks to Lafayette like an intricately weaved basket, and promptly takes his hand and tugs hard, trying to lead the man away.

“What the hell, Laf?” Hercules splutters silently, sending an accusing look their way, only slightly resisting them. “I was in the middle of looking at something.”

Lafayette brushes off the look being placed on them easily. They had gotten Hercules’ attention and that all they really cared about. “You take too long looking at things even though we can just come back to them,” they tell the man. Hercules scowls at the comments, but doesn’t reply to it, and Lafayette smiles in return. “Come on, do not look at me so, it is wounding.” They punctuate the comment with a momentary pout, sticking out their lower lip and turning their eyes to Hercules. “Besides, at the rate you’re going, we will not get off Level 1 by the time the museum even closes, and you simply must see the dinosaurs, Level 2 things. They are my favorite! I promise it will be worth your time, all you need to do is come with me.”

“You’re rather.. Uppity. Reminds me of a friend of mine,” Hercules muses, reluctantly trailing behind Lafayette. “Though they’re more prone to getting excited over the prospect of fighting somebody, verbally or physically, rather than dinosaurs. And I’m pretty sure over half of his energy comes from the extreme amounts of sugar he consumes daily.”

Lafayette hums in response, but doesn’t speak, walking swiftly to try and first get to Level 2, and then the gallery they are looking for, not giving any time to stop and look at anything else. Only when they are standing three feet into an area containing a large skeleton at the end do they stop suddenly, causing Hercules to almost run into them.

“Ah, ce bon, welcome to the dinosaurs,” they breath, turning quickly to look at Hercules with a wide, uncontrolled grin on their face. Lafayette moves to grab his shoulders, and quickly stops themselves, keeping themselves in their place for the first time that day, instead nodding their head, mostly to themself. “Simply magnificent, non? Come on, look and read. I’ll leave you be, I wish to look myself.” A small flurry of movement, and Lafayette is off examining the room.

 

Hercules watches as Lafayette all but runs over to the large skeleton of what looks like a triceratops to him, paying little mind to the containers lining the walls. They seem to be bursting with energy, and if Hercules was being honest with himself, he found it a little refreshing to see somebody with Lafayette’s status and money take such pleasure in an innocent act such as studying dinosaurs. Despite the forwardness they have, they really do seem like a good person, a sense of welcoming being put off of them, even on the field in during a game.

During Lafayette’s examination, a little boy walks over to Lafayette. He’s maybe seven years old, dark eyes looking up at them in wonder as he begins off in a set of rapid French. Lafayette smiles down at him as soon as they notice his presence, and bends to their knees to be more at level with the kid, who, even with them bent so, still has to look up to make eye contact with Lafayette. When he’s done talking talking, Lafayette responds in their own smooth French, a gentle smile on their face. From what Hercules can understand, they boy happened to recognize Lafayette. With a waved “adieu” and a hair, ruffle, Lafayette sends the boy off to his parents and rises from where they squatted.

Hercules walks over to them, grinning widely. “What was that about, Laf?” he questions, bumping shoulders with them, looking ahead at the display of bones carefully pieced together like a puzzle.

“He simply told me that he wished to go and play baseball like me when he is older, nothing more,” Lafayette answers, voice a little distant. “This is Cornelius, a prime example of evolution. He is what I would look for when I was ten and thought that I had a chance of finding fossils in my backyard.”

Hercules laughs at that, openly but not too loud. He can easily picture it; a young Lafayette, hair pulled back and a small, plastic, bright orange shovel in hand, a matching pale to go along with it, a wild grin missing a tooth, brown eyes set with the deep concentration that only a kid can have. The same type of concentration Hercules would have when he would help his grandmother mend clothing, and when she taught him to knit. Had Lafayette been a happy kid? Had they always expressed such enthusiasm as they do now? Hercules can’t see it any other way, can’t see a dull young Lafayette who didn’t get excited over everything they found interesting and not trying to make friends with strangers.

He lets them stand there for a few more minutes, he himself studying the large puzzle in front of him, trying to pick out which pieces were actual bone and which weren’t. “Since we are on Level 2 already, we should go and look at the bat cave,” Lafayette says, breaking the silence to look over at Hercules. While their eyes no longer hold the glow of hyperactiveness, they are still happy, still excited, looking as if they haven’t gone to this museum multiple times before.

“Sure, that sounds good. Only if we can look at other things afterwards.”

“Oh, of course, of course, just follow me, it’s not too far from here. Like I said, same level.”

Hercules follows closely behind Lafayette, and it really doesn’t take much time for them to reach it through the animal section. Hercules makes a mental note to look at it all when they’re done in the bat cave.

The cave itself is more of a dimly lit walkway, the entrance hallway decorated with black and white bats, a few display cases built in holding small skeletons and the such inside. The cave seems to me made out of a glossy, almost plastic type of material made to imitate the rock that would form caves such as this, hanging from the ceiling and coming up from the ground in small pillars.

Lafayette hangs near the middle of the walkway, almost avoiding the glass windows lining much of the walls. Hercules walks over to one, and peers inside. He’s met with sight of what has to be at least one hundred bats, all clustered together in an upper corner, some sleeping, other letting beady, unseeing eyes trained at the walls. Hercules is instantly entranced by it.

He doesn’t know how long he stands there, just watching the mostly motionless bats, eyes fixated on them all huddled together. They look so fragile with their wings drawn closely to their bodies, smaller than a baseball and most likely weighing less as well. In their own way, they’re cute with their small eyes and fuzzy, pointy bodies, almost like a skinny newborn puppy with an odd nose. Hercules wonders what they are thinking, if they can even think at all as they are observed by the people in the cave. They must be aware of them all, if not by sight than by the sound everybody makes while walking.

The noise is sudden, breaking Hercules out of his thoughts. It’s the sound of rapid flapping of wings from overhead, and Hercules jumps away from the glass in shock, quickly going to duck his head a little and hold a hand over it and his face. It isn’t until after the sound abruptly stops that he realizes the sound was nothing more than an audio clip. Lafayette laughs hard, a hand clutching their stomach.

Hercules glares at Lafayette, thought he isn’t really mad at them. It had been a dirty play to not warn Hercules about that beforehand, but he just couldn’t find any real malice to put into his stare. Whatever. He sighs and rolls his eyes at Lafayette. “Ha ha, real funny,” he says dryly. “Give a guy a heart attack and then laugh instead of calling 911, sounds real nice.”

Lafayette only laughs harder at him. “You’re face, Hercules, you’re face!” they manage between the laughter, tears beginning to be drawn to their eyes. “Oh, it was great, you should have seen it, how shocked you looked with the wide eyes and how you bent down, it was amazing. Mon dieu, it made going worth it. Merci, mon ami, for that experience of a lifetime.”

“You’re an asshole,” Hercules grumbles. “An utter asshole. Everything I thought of you before this has been ruined.”

“Really? You seemed to have been enjoying yourself before it happened, and it was simply a joke.”

No not really. Hercules tries once more to just be _angry_ at the Frenchman, but he sees that damn smile and nothing builds up in him, no rage or even annoyance. Well he is screwed. “C’mon man, I still want to see the other things they have going on with the animals, let’s get outta of here,” Hercules says, heading for the exit. Lafayette scrambles behind.

They don’t stay for much longer, both Hercules and Lafayette growing rather unreasonably hungry, and Hercules wishing for somewhere to eat that he would need help finding. Lafayette happily complies, and with a blown kiss to Maria, the two exit the building side by side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *whispers* yoooo guys, I totally have another fic going called It's Quiet Uptown that's also kinda cool, but it's Alex/John(ish) with a background of these two nerds. Just sayin.
> 
> Seriously this was torture to upload.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which I write probably the worst blow job in the history of blow jobs in fanfiction. Which... it's not even meant to be good. Btw, Lafayette like, begins to kinda get out of it during the end. Poor baby is just a very confused and emotionally distressed French Fry.

Lafayette loves their job, loves playing baseball with a passion; if they didn’t, they wouldn’t be playing. It certainly isn’t a money issue with both of their parents coming from rather rich backgrounds in France, although the chance to increase the wealth isn’t unwelcome. The game is simply thrilling for them. It’s fast paced, tests their skills, and there is a certain thrill involved with being a starting pitcher, even if they don’t find themselves on the mound every game. 

However, Lafayette thinks, there are certain downs to it. The travelling is nice, but they can’t stay for long, and because of this movement, relationships never seemed to really be on Lafayette’s mind. Even if they were to find someone on off seasons willing to put up with Lafayette’s hectic schedule and eccentric lifestyle, the season always starts up again, and the travelling is back on, game to game, city to city, mostly out of Canada, and Lafayette just doesn’t really enjoy the idea of such separation for extended period of times like that. So they decided long ago to keep it down to simple flings, one to two night things that are more for pleasure than anything. So when they are telling Hercules goodbye, dropping him off at his hotel one last time, a mix of emotions, mostly distressed, rush through them when they realize that they don’t want Hercules to leave.

Lafayette watches the retreating figure of Hercules, illuminated more by the hotel in front of him than the lamp lit street. He makes an intimidating figure in such lighting, nothing to show the soft lines and gentle face he has. “Goodbye, Monsieur Mulligan,” they whisper to themselves, switching their car into drive and slowly getting back to the roads. Hopefully he’ll remember to text them eventually.

They have a flight to catch the next day, heading out to Chicago for a game the next day. Hercules, if Lafayette remembers correctly, has his next game at home against the Red Sox. Lafayette makes a mental note to set their TV to record that game to see Hercules play. 

As they drive, the lights from buildings and street lamps go by at a mix of fast and slow paces, but always passing, always leaving Lafayette’s view eventually. They were originally intending to back to their apartment right away, get to sleep a little earlier if possible, but they’re struck with a need for company, a need to not be alone. It causes Lafayette to panic; there is no way that they could have gotten that attached to Hercules, no matter how fun the man ended up being in the end after opening up, no matter how large of a smile he has or how he laughs and the way his eyes crinkle so easily in joy. The attraction Lafayette feels for the man is purely physical, and the feeling is simply something caused by a stretch of them not having had any sex in over a week, a true tragedy for the Frenchman. That’s all it is. So, while they can’t have anything alcoholic, they still drive to a bar that’s more or less close to their apartment.

 

The boy was pretty enough, dark hair a mess of curls that landed right above his shoulders. In the dark corner of the bar, where the light doesn’t hit as well, his eyes are pools of black, the separation between what Lafayette guesses to be a brown and the black of pupils hard to find. And they don’t look at all like they’d fight Lafayette for dominance, not with their quickened, breath and nervous swallows. He looks to be maybe twenty-one, no younger for sure.

Lafayette had examined the boy the moment he walked into the bar to keep an eye on his drinking. Nothing but soda, and even now, his breath doesn’t smell even faintly like alcohol. Good. “Would you be opposed to going back to my place, lovely?” Lafayette murmurs in his ears before going and nuzzling his neck, grinning into the skin when they feel a small shudder run through his body.

“N-no, god no,” the boy breaths out, shaking his head slightly and letting out a small moan when Lafayette lets his tongue just poke out to run across his neck, leaving only a thin trail for cold air to latch on to. “All yours.”

If only Hercules would have let them be all his for a night. No, no thinking of him, only the boy in front of them. God, they don’t even know their name, that needed to be fixed if they were going to shove Hercules out of their mind. “What’s your name, hm? You’re so pretty, what type of name goes with that face?”

“Christoph, m’ name’s Christoph.”

Lafayette pulls back suddenly, and takes Christoph’s hand gently in their own. “Well then, Christoph, come along. I promise it’ll be a lot better than some bar bathroom, non?” They tug slightly, beginning to walking to the door, and Christoph stumbles along eagerly. “It is not far away.”

And it isn’t. The drive is less than five minutes, much to Lafayette’s satisfaction. “We can’t be making a scene in the building, mon cheri, I am sorry, but hands off until we are in my room,” they whisper, leaning over the center console to leave a small kiss on his cheek and give a teasing rub to his crotch. They receive a nod as reply, and so they send a toothy grin his way before getting out.

Christoph follows close behind Lafayette as they walk briskly to get to a side entrance of the building. Lafayette is almost tempted to take the stairs, just to keep the boy waiting a little. He seems more than eager to be following behind Lafayette, like a puppy, and they’re curious to see just how far it goes, but they really don’t feel like climbing the stairs while half hard. God made elevators for a reason.

When the doors close behind the two, Christoph leans in close to Lafayette, head tilted up to get at their throat, and they frown, gently pushing him away. “No, I am sorry, we need to wait. Cameras in the elevator, sweetie,” they tell him, and Christoph seems thrown off at the denial, but does make an effort to keep his distance. Lafayette allows him to have his shoulder pressed against their chest.

This time when Lafayette walks through their door and sees the slight mess of their apartment, they don’t care. They’re not trying to impress anybody, and it’s hard to really think about such trivial things with Christoph tugging at their shirt to get them to crowd his against the door. Lafayette easily complies, pulling his hands off of his shirt and pushing them against the door at his sides. “A little eager, aren’t we?”

Christoph blushes, looking down. Lafayette releases one of his hands to grab hold of his chin, tilting it upward so that they can look at his eyes. “Don’t fret, it’s cute,” they purr, rubbing his chin a little more roughly than necessary. After holding his gaze for a minute, they finally look away. As soon as their eyes flicker to his throat, Christoph pushes his hips upwards, just barely grazing against the top of Lafayette’s thigh.

Lafayette lets go of his other hand, and brings the hand being used to hold it up down to cup his crotch through what had to be increasingly uncomfortable skinny jeans. So, why not do Christoph a favor? They move their other hand down, and make quick work with the two buttons on the pants. They give a small tug, but the material stubbornly stays up. Damn fashion. “I might need help, cheri,” they tell Christoph, giving another shark jerk down, this time satisfied when the pants pull down to midthigh. After that, it doesn’t take long for Lafayette to finish the task, and Christoph is quickly stepping out of the pants.

As soon as he is completely free of the pants, Christoph bucks his hips up again, and Lafayette moves their hand so that he rubs right up against their palm. They draw a moan from him when they gently grasp him through his boxers, giving a small pull of their hand before letting go. 

Lafayette is ready to lead him to their bedroom when they become hyper aware of the fact that they suddenly aren’t really interested in this. They let out a small huff, drawing Christoph’s attention. “What’s wrong?” he asks, drawing his brows together.

Lafayette looks down at his face, letting a small grin creep on his face. “Nothing, do not worry,” they mumble, and drop to their knees. Better let the guy get off at least, or it would be a real awkward night if they wanted to share a bed with him. Because, they realize, that’s all they really wanted. To not have to sleep alone, and they aren’t a rude partner.

Even on their knees, Lafayette isn’t quite able to line up properly with Christoph’s crotch without more or less sitting on their feet, but once they’re in a semi-comfortable position, they lean forward to mouth at the bulge in his underwear, bringing their hands up to hold onto his hips. There’s a sharp gasp from above as Lafayette keeps themselves like that, tongue and mouth slowly getting the fabric wet, more for show than anything.

Lafayette’s mind begins to go blank halfway through it, and by the time they’re hovering at Christoph’s hips, rubbing at the skin with their nose while they pull down his underwear, they’re almost completely gone. It almost draws a snort from them as they look at the ridiculousness of the situation; Lafayette had chosen to go to the damn bar to pick a boy up, and here they are now, boy right in front of them, eagerly having his pants drawn down, and they can’t even stay interested enough in the situation to really focus, not let themselves go into autopilot. Great.

It doesn’t have them stopping, however. Lafayette takes one look at the cock held in front of their face, and gives one solid lick to the underside before slowly taking it into their mouth. But their mind is elsewhere, on Hercules and what he could be doing right now. Sleeping probably. What else was he to do in a city he doesn’t know? It’s not like Lafayette offered to take him out tonight, to show him a little bit of a fun time, too afraid that it would be overstepping boundaries. Damn them. Never before had Lafayette hesitated like that on such matters, and now it has them with some stranger’s dick in their mouth while they aren’t even interested in sex. Great fucking job, Lafayette.

There’s a hand in their hair, and Christoph is moaning loudly, his hips bucking up as he babbles, and within the mindless words Lafayette is able to catch that he’s close, that he’s about to come, which urges Lafayette to relax their throat and go down further, until their nose meets the end of the line. They only rest like that for ten seconds top before Christoph hits the edge and comes with a muffled shout, having shoved his own hand in his mouth by the sounds of it. Good. It’s over.

Lafayette swallows slowly, grimacing at the taste, and draws themselves up to their full height, once more at least a head above Christoph. His face is flushed, and he still seems to be a little out of it.

Despite his daze, he moves forward to grab at Lafayette’s pants, but they push his hand off. “It’s okay, love, I’m a bit tired. How about we just.. Head to bed,” they propose. Christoph gives them an odd look, but easily moves when Lafayette makes their way mindlessly to their room. It wasn’t a lie, they are tired. 

Lafayette grabs hold of Christoph when the two are both in bed, drawing the slighter man close to their body, taking small comfort in foreign body resting in their bed, too small to even closely resemble Hercules. It’s with that thought that Lafayette drifts off to sleep, hold on Christoph maybe a little too tight, but not enough for him to complain about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, I don't.. write this kind of thing? It wasn't originally meant to be do dull, but then halfway through I was like 'this doesn't sound right' and it ended up different than I had planned. But yeah, no, that's like.. the first I'm I've ever written anything remotely close to explicit, and it wasn't that much? Watch me ramble next time on "End Notes of my Fics"
> 
> (I really like comments. They make me happy and fuel my little writing heart to write more. ;* Love ya all)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's short and late, school is a bitch and stressful and yeah. I decided I wanted some really weird fluff. So it's some almost fluff. French translations at the end ;*

When the alarm rings, Lafayette is instantly pulled out of their troubled sleep, surprised to find themselves still curled around the man, Christoph, their mind supplies, from the previous night. They look to the window; no light is crossing through the drawn curtains, but around the edge, they can just make out the faintest of light creeping into the sky, the stars in the distance just beginning likely to be fading away. Christoph seems to have been completely undisturbed by his surroundings, head still buried in the pillow below his head, dark hair messily fanning around his head. Now that Lafayette has a chance to look at him, they have to admit that he does look good, just… Not Hercules. Really a shame.

A look at the clock tells Lafayette that they still have a little more than an hour and a half before they really need to be at the airport, which means the man in front of them doesn’t need to be disturbed just yet. But Lafayette still needs to shower. They carefully maneuver themselves out of the bed, being sure as to not unnecessarily wake up the other occupant, and quickly make their way to the adjoining bathroom.

The water is purposefully kept cold at first, and Lafayette carefully steps under the icy spray, shivering as the water sinks its way through their hair and spread across their scalp and along their body. The cold wastes no time in penetrating the Frenchman’s skin, and within a minute, they’re shivering. But, even as the sharp pain of the cold races through Lafayette, they are given time to be distracted, time to not be able to think about anything but the cold and the way it wakes them up quickly and efficiently, putting their body on a high alert that is only really mirrored when a large crowd is facing down on them with loud cheers. It feels good despite the pain is leaves behind in its wake.

The only problem with the chilly water is that Lafayette can’t wash themselves with it. Well, okay, they can, but they don’t ever feel as clean as when it’s with almost scalding water. And they need to wash, they’re flying today. So, with a slightly resigned sigh, they twist the water knob sharply to the left. It takes no time for the burning water to come down crashing down, instantly clashing with their cold skin, sending a shock through their nervous system that has a rush of dizzying adrenaline running through them, their vision momentarily going fuzzy and they get lightheaded for just the moment, and then it’s gone, as quickly as it came, the more calming sensation of the hot water rolling over their skin comes through.

Without the distraction of the sting of cold water, Lafayette’s mind is left to wander as they go through the familiar motions of washing themselves. The awful night before comes instantly to mind. It shouldn’t have been such a huge blowout for Lafayette. That had been nowhere near the first time they’d gone out to try and get laid to at least try and release some stress in a way that won’t haunt them, a way that won’t hurt them or anybody else, always careful to only get with someone not expecting anything more than an hour or two, the night at the most. It wasn’t the fact that Christoph is a stranger, and he doesn’t lack in the appearance department.

_He’s not Hercules Mulligan, though._

Lafayette groans a little at the thought, rinsing off the white suds of fruit smelling body wash. “Merde, je suis un imbécil, mon dieu,” they mumble, closing their eyes tightly. But all that comes up is a large, bright smile and crinkles at bright eyes, and that’s exactly what Lafayette doesn’t want to be thinking at. “Je ne veux pas cette affection, mais… Pour qui moi? Et pour qui lui? Je ne peux pas… Il joue pour une autre équipe. Putain.” Damn French romantics.

 

After dropping Christoph off at his own small house, Lafayette goes back to their apartment to drop their car off before going to catch a bus to the airport. They arrive nine minutes before the set time they gave themselves the other day, and walk through the large doors with a small suitcase being pulled behind, and another small backpack slung across their shoulder. They have their wallet, and passport, shoved in a back pocket, ready to be grabbed when needed.

They make quick work of going to check-in, happy to be rid of their suitcase. Security is a little more difficult. The earlier morning hour does nothing to the large numbers of people coming through, and the added fact that Lafayette is crossing country borders does nothing to help the time it takes to make it across. But, after some time, and a lot of waiting, they get through with no mishaps. Backpack once more on shoulder, comfortable sweats hanging low on hips, sunglasses pushed to the top of their head and a baggy shirt going just a little too far below their waist, Lafayette walks to the transit lounge to wait.

 

While the flight is not too terribly long, Lafayette is still feeling leftover exhaustion from the night before, and quickly slips into a sleep after the plane takes off. Their dream is wispy, cloudy and without a clear picture. There are no hard edges, only soft, feather light touches, a too bright sun, too soft colors, nothing solid, nothing quite right, yet nothing wrong appearing.

A landscape painted in pastels, the colors almost floating in the air, light streaming through the air and hitting everywhere, yet there is no sun in the blue purple sky, no moon, no stars, no clouds, only color and a sourceless light as it hits blue green grass and bright pink stones and light blue, almost clear, rivers carving their way through a nameless valley. Bright flowers that seemed to dance atop the grass are a variety of colors, blues, purples, lighter greens, pinks, yellows, oranges, red, an entire rainbow seemingly contained in them. There are no bugs, no wild animals or people straying into the peaceful land. 

Lafayette sits on the ground, running their hand through grass. It doesn't feel like it ever touches them, but it moves as if it does. And while there is no sun, a beam of light hits them and they feel the warmth of the sun, feel the comforting hit of heat spread across them, and they look to the sky, smiling at the smeared colors in the sky, nothing really mixed together like paint in a jar, but instead like paint on a canvas, the colors distinct from each other, but still going together in some places. No birds fly overhead, but Lafayette doesn’t mind. It’s beautiful, it’s theirs. It’s safe.

And then Lafayette hears a step behind them, and they turn their head and torso to see what it is. Who it is. They grin largely up at Hercules, a small giggle escaping their lips, a small bit of their tongue poking out from their teeth. Hercules smiles back at Lafayette, and walks to their side before sitting down gently in the grass. No words are exchanged, no words are needed. Lafayette immediately adjusts their position so that they are lying horizontally on the ground, head on Hercules’ lap, looking up at his face.

The joy both of the feel seems to float around the two, transferring and sending about little sparks or yellow and pink, silent sounds of laughs and two oblivious smiles, no problems in the world to touch them. It is just Lafayette and Hercules, no rivalries, no other people, no other world, no other life, nothing but the two of them. Hercules runs his hand through Lafayette’s hair slowly, gently, and Lafayette can just barely feel it, can just barely make out the pressure on their skull and the feel of their hair being tugged just a little at the ends, and it’s a feeling they want to feel forever. To feel safe, like they belong somewhere off field, out of the spotlight with someone else.

But as soon as Hercules opens his mouth to speak, the colors begin to bleed dark, the pastels being lost, and Lafayette finds themselves looking at the inside of their eyelids as the plane is rocked by a hard thing of turbulence. They’re no longer tired, however, and instead stare at the seat in front of them in frustration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Merde, je suis un imbécil, mon dieu” - Shit, I'm a fool (or imbecile if you wish), my god.
> 
> Je ne veux pas cette affection, mais… Pour qui moi? Et pour qui lui? Je ne peux pas… Il joue pour une autre équipe. Putain" - I do not want this affection, but... why me? And why him? I can't... He plays for another team. Fuck.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I look this over before posting, and with horror, I realize.. It wasn't in English. Well full English. So if you find some mistake, I TRIED FOR ONCE don't shoot me when I actually put in an effort.
> 
> This was fun to write. Fun fact: I used to play baseball before I wan't allowed to play baseball, and only softball. At which point I was like "screw you guys" and quit.

**From: Herc :0 >> _Good luck @ your game today_**

Lafayette stares down at the message, a flow of happiness starting in their chest exploding, running away through the arteries and travelling quicker than blood, leaving a lazy energy in its wake. The message, while so very little, nothing special, no confessions of feelings, is the greatest thing to Lafayette.

Hercules texted them. He texted them good luck. There is no reason that Hercules did that, no reason that he would even think to do it, let alone act on the thought. No reason that, after Lafayette dropped him off at his hotel two nights before that he didn’t just forget about them, erase Lafayette from his mind. Not only did he not do that, the remembered them enough to think about texting them. 

Which is great.

**To: Herc :0 >> _you too!!!!!_**   
**To: Herc :0 >> _tell me all the juicy details when you win ;*_**   
**From: Herc :0 >> _Only if you tell me how yours plays out there french fry_**

Lafayette snorts at that. Like they haven’t heard that a few hundred times. But it’s adorable, and Hercules wants them to text him again. After the game he _wants_ them to message them, to speak to him, not as a passing thought.

All the previous self frustrations about how excited they get over Hercules washes away from the simple thing, the simple set of words that probably aren’t meant to mean anything, but to Lafayette, they’re almost the world. They bring such a joy to them, and while they know it’s pretty pathetic, really, they don’t care. Not right now, not when Hercules actually wants them to speak to him.

**To: Herc :0 >> _hmmmm i suppose if i must_**   
**From: Herc :0 >> _Well i mean_**   
**From: Herc :0 >> _You kinda play before i do so_**   
**From: Herc :0 >> _You must :)_**

 

When sitting in the sheltered dugout, the noise from the spectators are a little louder, yet, in a way, they are not as loud as they would be if Lafayette were standing on the field themselves. The closer proximity to the source of the shouts and cheers of fans is noticeable, something that Lafayette’s ears hasn’t ever taken too kindly to -they’d never have been able to survive football and the almost constant, mindless screaming- but it’s not as clear as being on the field, not the same. The attention isn’t on them, and as such, it’s not as loud mentally, not a important to them or listened to.

Lafayette misses their spot on the mound, in the middle of it all, the starter of it all. That’s their home, second to their apartment. It’s charted territory that always brings a calming thrill that no drug can ever replicate. It’s addictive to step up, the all too familiar weight and shape of the ball in hand, all lights, eyes, and cameras on them, to look into the the eyes of the batter. Nothing will ever be able to replace the feeling. Lafayette lives for it, misses it with a strong passion. It’s the that surge of power that draws them to each game, the siren call of the field and spotlight. It’s why they play.

As soon as Lafayette is given the chance to come out to the spotlight, they jump on it. Everything goes slow et quick back to back. Everything freezes when they pick up the pat, play with a little bit, give it a few twirls, testing grips. And then they take position, eyes ahead, and their blood slows down in wait.

Distantly, in the back of Lafayette’s mind, est the tickle of a memory of what happened after the blood freezes completely, when it lets go, of similar moments reached through the game, through reckless activities and stupid stunts back en France, only able to be pulled off without their parents. Just like this. Only without their parents.

As soon as the ball comes flying their way, it all snaps, everything speeds up. With the first swing they make contact, the sound splitting their air around their ears, sound amplified for them by the excitement and on edge nerves. Without looking to see where the ball goes, Lafayette drops the bat and runs,eyes fixed on first base. Nothing else around them matters, all zoning out in the distance, colors fading in the corner of their eyes. No sounds meet them now, a sharp, sudden contrast to only a few seconds before when their head was filled with the loud noises of the field. Nothing can touch them.

Lafayette feels unstoppable.

A look for the ball as they hit first, and seeing it in the distance, someone running for it as it rolls through the grass, has them sharply turning left, using a bounce off of their right foot to set the motion into quick action. Lafayette sees the second baseman looking for a ball that still hasn’t been picked up, a ball that isn’t coming, and they speed up, breath coming in a steady, hard flow. They’re only vaguely aware of the crowd making a noise, and there’s no way they’d be able to figure out what it’s for. They are only barely able to keep themselves from overrunning the base.

And then it all freezes again. It makes Lafayette restless, the few moments they need to stand still while the ball is returned to the pitcher while the next batter steps up. Energy, a hype, rushes through them, touching every finger, goes through every cell in a powerful wave, waiting to be released, waiting for the telltale sound of wood hitting a ball that signifies that they can run and release it all.

First pitch. A strike. Lafayette doesn’t move, still fixed to the ground.

Second pitch. A foul. Lafayette twitches, itching to move when they see the ball move.

Third pitch. A hit. The ball soars somewhere to the right of first, and Lafayette lets go it all and runs.

The helmet feels restrictive, keeping their already tied up hair away from the flowing air, doesn’t allow for Lafayette to hear properly when they want to hear, the sound of air hitting against the plastic shell too loud, the weight not light enough, but they run. They like running almost as much as pitching, running from anything, anyone, anywhere, in any way, as long as it keeps them moving, to not have to stay put. Nothing bad happens to Lafayette when they run, only when they stop because when they run, nothing can catch up to them, not even their problems.

Their foot hits third base.

Lafayette’s eyes are on home now, waiting, watching, looking past the batter only a few centimetres away. His position doesn’t matter to Lafayette, won’t matter when the ball is hit. Only the dirty yellow white plate.

First pitch. A strike.

Second pitch. A strike.

Third pitch. A strike. An out.

Lafayette keeps in a frustrated noise, eyes flicking up to the blue sky, seeking a calmness for their mind. But only the mind, Lafayette cannot afford their body to calm, can’t afford to not be ready to run with two outs already up. They can’t afford to not make it.

Another batter walks up, determined look on his face. The batter throws the ball.

First pitch. A foul.

Second pitch. A hit.

Blood rushes through Lafayette’s ears, their feet moving fast, everything in the distance blurring. The ground is nothing, a fuzzy side of brown and solidity, and everything in the side of their eyes begins to turn black. Unimportant. It’s all unimportant. The only thing that matters is the base in front of them, not far now. They see a streak of the ball going to the pitcher to their left, and push their legs to carry them faster, faster, to reach the end of the run, to finish the race.

Another flying ball comes by. Lafayette slides down, reaching their foot out to the touch the base. To touch home. Not even a second after the edge of their shoe touches does their senses explode, a spring of pain in their left side firing up just as the ball hits the open glove above them.

Safe.

 

**To: Herc :0 >> _merci pour le chance_**   
**To: Herc :0 >> _j’ai gagne!!!_**   
**To: Herc :0 >> _i won thank you <3_**   
**To: Herc :0 >> _you are the best herc. 7-5_**


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My butt hurts from sitting down awkwardly on my bed while typing this. Why did I not just move, you may ask. Well you see, my dog fell asleep on my legs. Thanks, Sophie. Also, screw you.
> 
> Okay, another note, a bit of John in here. Fun fact: I love John Laurens. Alex will be coming soon (like probably next chapter or something).

In the end, it’s an overall victory for the Blue Jays, only losing their second of three games to the White Sox, leaving Lafayette and the team in a rather happy mood as they all left the stadium on the third day. While most of them are worn out from the final game, a tight 5-4 win on their end, there are no complaints rittling the air, only the sounds of some smacks on back and cheers.

They have one day for a break before they’re expected in Minneapolis for their next set of four games against the Twins. Nobody is going back to Toronto for the small reprieve. It’s not worth the effort of finding an early enough flight to be at Target Field in time. Lafayette plans to use the time given to simply enjoy their continued correspondence with one Hercules Mulligan.

The anger at Lafayette’s crush left about an hour after their first game in Chicago those two days before. As Hercules continues to talk to Lafayette, they find it impossible to be frustrated at themselves for their small (large) crush on the man. After all, who couldn’t find a dork with such a large smile adorable? It’s impossible, the Frenchman thinks, so really, it isn’t their fault for falling for his natural charms.

**From: Herc :0 >> _Where’re your next games?_**  
**To: Herc :0 >> _Minneapolis_**  
**To: Herc :0 >> _Twins_**  
**To: Herc :0 >> _Gonna WRECK them holy SHIT MAN watch the Canadians DESTROY <3_**  
**From: Herc :0 >> _Nsa always watching. Careful french fry_**  
**To: Herc :0 >> _America is scary wtf_**  
**To: Herc :0 >> _Actually_**  
**To: Herc :0 >> _@Government watch us DESTROY THE TWINS lmao_**  
**To: Herc :0 >> _srsly this will be gr8_**  
**From: Herc :0 >> _There will be a day that you play us here and on that next day im taking you down to nyc and introducing you to my friends because this is ridiculous. Youre ridiculous Laf_**

Lafayette huffs a bit at that. Always about Hercules’ friends. And, hey, they really seem like cool people, Hercules definitely likes them, but Lafayette would be lying if they were to say that they weren’t a bit envious of them for being able to see Hercules, and for him always being ready to talk about them with Lafayette. There is no way that Hercules could talk about Lafayette to these people as much as he talks about them to Lafayette.

**To: Herc :0 >> _U do realize that this is the 21st century_**  
**To: Herc :0 >> _Give me their #s or something_**  
**To: Herc :0 >> _I can’t give 2 shits about how much money us talking would spend me okay Im in America it won’t hurt them_**  
**To: Herc :0 >> _Well I don’t think so but if it does Ill pay for it smthn_**  
**From: Herc :0 >> _Contact info shared_**

**_[THAT’S NOT EVEN A TURTLE ALEXANDER PUT IT DOWN]  
[Eye bags bigger than my mom’s purses]_ **

**To: Herc :0 >> _Pffft thnx_**

Lafayette snorts at the name of the contacts. They had taken the other man to be someone to have more… well, normal contact names, not this kind of thing. It’s great and really has Lafayette wondering what the hell their name is in his phone.

**To: Herc :0 >> _And what are their names???? Or did they have some real shit parents???????_**  
**From: Herc :0 >> _Turtles is John & eye bags is Alex_**  
**To: Herc :0 >> _Thanks ;*_**  
**To: Herc :0 >> _Love ya <3_**

Hercules doesn’t need to know that there is a bit of truth behind the statement.

 

**To: Turtle Man >> _This is the NSA_**  
**To: Turtle Man >> _Jk I’m Hercules’ friend. Blame him for me having your number_**  
**From: Turtle Man >> _who is this?????_**  
**From: Turtle Man >> _this number is fucking canadiuan im_**  
**From: Turtle Man >> _in too drunl foe this bullshir_**  
**From: Turtle Man >> _r u a moose i thought canaa had mooses omg i didmnt’ ever_**  
**From: Turtle Man >> _OH MY GOD IS THIS THE MOOSE I DIDNT EVEN HIT A MOOOSE I HIT THE DEER IT WAS AN ACIDENT PLLEEAS PDNMT KILL ME_**  
**From: Turtle Man >> _oh wait you said hercs fiend r u that frencg oerson_**  
**To: Turtle Man >> _............................._**  
**To: Turtle Man >> _It’s only 6pm… okay, 7 for u but still… why are you drunk already_**  
**To: Turtle Man >> _Nvm this is America. I’m Lafayette btw_**  
**From: Turtle Man >> _HOLTY FCK HERCULES DOESNT SHUT UP ABT U IM SCREAMING OMGGGGGGG BRB CRYING HOLY FUCKING SHIT_**

Much to Lafayette’s disappointment, John does not come back. But he did leave Lafayette with some interesting information. Hercules never shuts up about them?

And now comes that stupid rush of joy that always accompanies so much as a text from Hercules, except Hercules isn’t even talking to Lafayette right now. He talks about them to his friends. A lot. Which means he thinks about Lafayette. A lot. They smile uncontrollably at the news, clutching their phone to their chest.

So maybe there is some stupid hope after all? Lafayette can already feel themselves getting mentally beat up in the future when this comes crashing down in the end, when Hercules ends up not harboring any sort of feelings beyond friendship for them. Lafayette ignores it for now, instead happily deciding to live in the bliss of ignorance, no matter how momentary it may be.

 

Lafayette has one day off, one day before they have to hop on an early flight to Minnesota to play a series of games that will likely be among some of the easiest this year. Last they had looked, the Twins had an incredible four wins this season. Not the best record on their part. The downside of such a setup is that there is the potential that games won’t be too much of a challenge. But they do have one thing going for them, and that’s that Lafayette gets to pitch the first game. Chicago had been a bummer, the opportunity to start a game not arising in the three games.

That’s the downside of being a pitcher, Lafayette supposes, especially a starter. They don’t get the chance to play their main position every game. And Lafayette plays it with a passion, love their place in the team. It gives them the feel of importance and power over the game. They’re starter. They place the first move, they have the first throw. Without them, the game wouldn’t play. They’re important and get to bask in the glory and limelight while up in the center of the diamond. And sure, Lafayette is well aware that they’re valuable as a batter too; they can run and hir rather well, but it’s not the same as when they’re allowed to pitch. It’s a different, more satisfying attention for them.

So Lafayette might be a little (a lot) egotistical. It could be worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to join my sorry ass on [My Tumblr](http://leslicodomjr.tumblr.com/) if you feel the want to. I don't really... talk much about my fics on it, but that's because nobody asks me about them. I would love to receive prompts for one-shots and shit.
> 
> AND ANOTHER THINGS do you know how freaking... That stupid John scene fuck I was like "okay, so no drunk person has perfect texting, so I'll just close my eyes and type it out" BUT NO I open my eyes and everything is typed out perfectly and I was just "???????????" In other words, I spend too much type typing shit for classes and my own pleasure and need to learn to get a life.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello hello, I know I'm horrible, butttt here is a new chapter!! I am really tired, though, oh lord.

Lafayette is not against spending a little bit of money to get what they want. They have enough of it to throw it around a bit, and what better what to spend it than on watching Hercules’ last game against the Red Sox? Really, there isn’t one.

Every time the camera shows Hercules, even for the briefest of moments, Lafayette’s breath stops for the moment, eyes glued to the screen. Deep in the back of their mind, they’re aware of just how bad they have it for Hercules, but the knowledge doesn’t voice itself very loudly. For now, Lafayette is content to just sit and watch the game.

**From: Eye Bags >> _R u watching the game????_**   
**From: Eye Bags >> _Alexander btw Hercules’ friend_**

Lafayette wasn’t expecting to hear their phone go off, so when it does, they jump a little from the surprise. Drawing their eyebrows together, they drag their eyes from the TV screen in front of them and look down at the lit up screen of their phone.

Eye Bags. Alex. Or, Alexander. Definitely not expected.

**To: Eye Bags >> _Whered u get my #??_**   
**From: Eye Bags >> _John_**   
**From: Eye Bags >> _Laurens, of course. John Laurens. The guy u txted while he was shit faced. Yelled @ u for being a moose. Read it over his shoulder this morning. Ur Lafayette right? Thought that’s wht he said. Unless I typed in your number incorrectly._**   
**To: Eye Bag >> _No tht’s who i am..._**   
**From: Eye Bags >> _Oh good. So u watching the game?_**

Yes, and Lafayette would like to get back to watching the game as well. Without interruptions. A quick glance up at the TV shows a commercial running. Boring.

**To: Eye Bags >> _Yeah y_**   
**From: Eye Bags >> _So does that mean u like herc?_**

Lafayette coughs loudly as they see the question pop up on their phone, air suddenly not coming in as easy or effortlessly as just moments before. They, of course, know the answer. Yes. Hell yes, more than like if they’re being honest, but why would that matter? Why is Alexander even asking in the first place?

**To: Eye Bags >> _He’s a good friend????????_**   
**From: Eye Bags >> _Ok so u dnt like him? Or?_**   
**To: Eye Bags >> _Wdym_**   
**From: Eye Bags >> _Like… do u like like him in 5th grade terms. Crush? Harbor more than friendly feelings? Feel romantic affections? Hold a torch? Tu veux il vas être ton copain?_**

Lafayette narrows their eyes reading the message. The French would usually be a little comforting, if only because their mother tongue always brings a calming sense to them, but not in this situation.

**To: Eye Bags >> _Why does it matter?_**   
**From: Eye Bags >> _Just wondering srry_**   
**To: Eye Bags >> _ok???_**

Lafayette doesn’t get a response back, much like what had happened with John the night before. They can see why the two would be friends. There are, of course, differences between the two situations. Alex is, as far as Lafayette could tell, sober, it’s not night time, and Alex sent the first message, instead of Lafayette. However, both out of the blue conversations were, in their own way, centered around the same topic. Well, maybe. If Hercules not shutting up about Lafayette means anything, which is likely doesn’t. More than not likely, unfortunately. Emotions. Feelings. Lafayette would say gross, but they’ve always been one to follow their heart, even if it meant crashing horribly.

**To: Herc :0 >> _You have some weird friends_**

With the final message, Lafayette sets their phone down to finish watching the game, hopefully with no more disturbances. 

 

There’s a message left unopened on Lafayette’s phone. They know what it says, but they don’t want to open it, don’t want it show that they’ve read it as they have absolutely no idea how the hell they are supposed to respond. Every time they think about it, Lafayette’s heart starts racing, and it’s only been thirty long, yet also short, minutes since Hercules asked them. He wants to Skype. Video call, so show them something. That’s a lot more intimate than texting, and sure, they aren’t anything more than friends, but that does not keep Lafayette’s traitorous heart from speeding up.

Lafayette, of course, wants to do that, more than wants to, but they don’t know how to say it without sounding foolish. For once in their life, Lafayette is thinking about what they’re doing with someone they like instead of rushing in head first like their personality tells them to. Maria would be proud of Lafayette. They feel like an absolute mess, stomach turning violently. They bite their bottom lips nervously, pushing the power button on their phone on, off, on, off in a continuous manner. The screen is illuminated, just for a moment, showing Lafayette that the text is still there, before it’s flicked off again. Repeat. Repeat.

But it’s getting late, just near nine for Hercules, and if Lafayette wants to go through with this, they know they need to act now,

**To: Herc :0 >> _Dude yeah!! Wld love to_**   
**To: Herc :0 >> _What’s ur skype?_**

Was that too eager sounding? It was way too eager sounding. And they’re asking for his Skype instead of just giving him their own like a decent person. Fuck.

**To: Herc :0 >> _Mine’s frlaffytaffy_**

Much to Maria’s delight, as well. She’s the one who started calling Lafayette Laffy Taffy relentless two years ago after they had told her about their grandparents’ old nickname for them. While Lafayette hated being called that when it was their grandparents’, Maria never managed to make it annoying. They’d even dare to say that they enjoy the name.

**From: Herc :0 >> _Added you :) im herc.rules_**

Lafayette lets out a snort of amusement at the name, but quickly exits out of their messaging and opens up their Skype to accept said invite. They feel a rush running through them, excitement building, and they’re unable to shake off a ridiculously large grin from their face. God.

**From: Herc :0 >> _Do u wanna call or should i?_**   
**To: Herc :0 >> _I cn do it if u wnt_**   
**To: Herc :0 >> _Up to u herc_**   
**From: Herc :0 >> _Ok gimme a sec ill do it_**

As soon as Lafayette’s screen goes blue, and a ridiculous image of Shrek is center stage, captioned with “They don’t call me Hercules for nothing ;)”, Lafayette’s heart stops, eye going wide. With no guidance from their brain, Lafayette’s finger answers.

Lafayette can do nothing but let out a happy sigh as they are greeted with a slightly blurry face. Hercules has a large smile on his face, all teeth and joy and happiness and Lafayette melts into the white sheets of the hotel bed. But before either of them can do anything, Hercules swings around with an “oh shit!” Hercules turns quickly, putting what Lafayette assumes is his phone down on the table. “Give me another second, my fukcing cat…” The statement makes Lafayette giggle (yes, giggle) as Hercules disappears. Hercules never mentioned a cat before, but Lafayette is in no way surprised.

The camera, now that Hercules isn’t there, is pointing to a pure, white, smooth ceiling. It’s odd, Lafayette thinks, that the first thing of Hercules’ home that they see if the ceiling. And the ceiling somehow fits the man. It’s clean, no pattern in sight, and while normally a smooth, almost pristine ceiling like this one would be equated with boredom, this one doesn’t speak that to them. It speaks Hercules.

Two minutes pass, then three, and Lafayette begins to get nervous as to what they’re going to do, what they’re going to say. Sure, this isn’t the first time they’ve ever video chatted someone - with a job like a baseball player, it happens often - but never before has it been with someone Lafayette has, dare they say it, a crush on. And never have they been given such a long time to just _think_ while the other person, Hercules this time, is gone.

Four minutes now. Lafayette gets up, phone in hand, and walks to the small hotel fridge. They look longingly at the alcohol, because that would definitely help loosen their nerves a bit, but they don’t dwell on the idea long. Instead, they reach for a thing of chocolate pudding they have sitting on the top shelf, and easily grab a spoon from the top of the mini fridge. After closing the door, Lafayette hurriedly walks to their bed and opens the container (really a tub), happily shoving a spoonful of it into their mouth.

The time on the call passes six minutes before Hercules finally returns, a white cat cradled to his chest. “Sorry about that,” he says, voice holding an apologetic tone. “She was getting into things she wasn’t supposed to.” The cat just looks at Hercules’ phone screen and meows, paying no mind to her owner.

Lafayette bites their lip to keep from laughing. The cat doesn’t seem to have any shame for whatever it was she was doing. “What’s her name?” Lafayette asks, tracking her every small movement.

“Uh, Frosted Flakes.”

This time, Lafayette isn’t able to contain their laughter. Frosted Flakes? Amazing cat name, really.

“Oh of course, très bien, Frosted Flakes.” At the name, the cats freezes, ears perked. “Elle est belle. Trouble maker?”

Hercules snorts. “That’s an understatement,” he grumbles. “She was supposed to be my show and tell, an excuse to call you, and then she runs off to my room and just… a menace, I swear. Hey, is that pudding you’re eating?”

Lafayette looks down and stares in slight horror at the thing of pudding in their lap. What was once a pull pint of chocolate pudding is now only a quarter full. They feel sick, immediately dropping their spoon into the container. “Merde, mon dieu. Putain,” they curse. Their stomach does a roll, but this time not from nervousness, but from slight disgust and naeuseau. And unattractive grimace quickly comes across their face.

“You okay?” Hercules asks.

Lafayette holds off from snapping at Hercules’ for his innocent question. This was their fault, not his, they’re the one who started to mindlessly stress eat. Three fourths of a pint. Shit. They have a game tomorrow too. Hercules is sitting right at the camera and surely witnessed some of the eating. Pudding. Chocolate pudding. Of all the foods… “I think I’m going to be sick,” Lafayette mumbles, rushing from their bed, phone left behind on the comforter while Lafayette brings the tub of pudding with them.

Garbage. It all needs to go in the garbage. Fuck.

They rush to the bathroom and throw the container in the garbage next to the toilet, satisfied by the thud it makes as it hits the bottom and rustles the bag. It doesn’t stop Lafayette’s stomach from continuing to do flip flops, or the need to get it out of them. But they leave, slowly, going back to their bed, ignoring the impulses going through them.

“You going to be okay, Laf?” Hercules asks gently after Lafayette climbs back into bed.

They study Hercules’ face for a moment, bright smile gone, replaced by worry a worn down tiredness. Lafayette grabs their phone so that they can lay on their side and prop the phone on an extra pillow, facing their own face. “Yeah,” they answer, nodding their head. “Yeah, yeah, sorry about that.”

“Hey, it’s no problem, man.” While the subject is clearly being dropped, Hercules continues to look worried for them. Lafayette wonders what that’s about.

They’re tired, and give a small hum to Hercules that they’re not even sure he can hear. Eyes slips closed involuntarily, and before they really know it, Lafayette drifts away into their own exhausted sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments really make my day. If I don't respond, nothing about you, everything about my tiredness.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know how finals exist? And school? And the "oh shit i gotta get my grade up" panic? Yeah, buddy, sorry 'bout that.
> 
> Also, i looked and was like "i should proofread this: and then shrugged and went "nah". ;*

When Lafayette wakes up to the loud beeps of the clock in their room, it's slow. Despite the piercing sound, they're dragged down by a tired weight on their mind and body, and there's just the smallest scratch in their throat that they're hoping will only be allergies and not escalate to anything more. But, even with the irritant that can easily go away with just some water, the blankets are so warm compared to the air blasting from the AC. The noise doesn't bother them so much as their eyes continue to be heavy, heavy, closing….

“Ow, fuck! Flakes get off of my cro- OW!” Lafayette’s eyes quickly flick to their phone, still resting gently in their pillow, and there's what Lafayette thinks is a large arm flying through the air. “Turn that thing off, god damn it. Flakes I swear to god, even think about letting the claws out and I'll remove them.”

It's disgustingly cute hearing Hercules with his cat, even as Lafayette lazily turns off the alarm for what sounds to be the sake of some part of the man's genitals. Because it would really be a shame were something to happen to anything in that area.

Lafayette is at a lot for words. What’re they supposed to say the the guy they apparently fell asleep skyping? The guy they can’t even deny having a helpless crush on. The guy who may have been making a hospital visit because of they were content with just sleeping in as long a they could past the alarm. Really, they’re not equipped for this type of situation.

“Uh, good morning,” Lafayette says after a moment, looking to their phone with tired eyes, slightly adjusting its position so that it doesn’t give as much of an unflattering angle of their face.

Hercules matches Lafayette’s eyes with a lazy smile, only half of his lips really moving to the side. “Morning, Laf,” he mumbles, the clear voice from just a minute before replaced with with something more telling of how he was just abruptly awoken.

Lafayette nervously bites their bottom lip, drawing it into their mouth while shooting their eyes off to the side. “Sorry ‘bout that… I hadn’t realized… I thought you woulda hung up.”

Hercules snorts silently, rolling onto his side so that he’s facing his camera. “I kinda did too. I must’ve fallen asleep,” he tells Lafayette. Which made no sense. When Lafayette passed out, Hercules didn’t seem tired at all, but they suppose that he can live in his little world if they’re allowed to think about how Hercules didn’t hang up on them, and probably watched them sleep. Which should sound weird, but Lafayette knows that they’re do the same thing were their roles reversed. “You getting up early for a flight?”

Lafayette groans at the reminder of just why they’re awake right now in the first place. A flight. Right. “Oui, oui. Unfortunately.” Even while saying it, they’re burying their face further into their pillow, pulling their warm blanket around them just a little tighter, eyes drooping closed. A loud cough from Hercules jerks them up again. “D’accord, d’accord. I’m getting up.”

“Do you want me to hang up now, or…?” Hercules lets the question trail off.

Lafayette shakes their head lightly with smile, pulling themselves out of bed. “Not unless you want to, Hercules. If you wish for more sleep, then yes, but I wouldn’t be against having some company.” The words came out terribly wrong, not how Lafayette wanted them to. Hopefully Hercules will understand that, despite Lafayette being very fluent in English, they were still bound to be tripping up at times. Especially and ew a’ clock in the morning.

“I think I should probably get up anyways. I don’t see the stupid cat going back to sleep unless I’m going to be up, just because, guess what, he’s an asshole,” Hercules says, and Lafayette laughs a little. Would they ever get to the chance to meet Frosted Flakes? They’d be lying if they said they didn’t want to. “Now, go shower and get dressed or something. I’ll be here.”

Hercules will be there. Hercules, someone Lafayette hadn’t known for a month, waiting for them on a Skype call in the morning. As a friend. Lafayette’s heart swells as they quickly go about grabbing loose sweatpants and a sweatshirt - more than enough experience has warned them about the godawful cold temperatures of planes - and rushing into the small hotel bathroom for a shower.

As the warm water rolls down Lafayette’s back, their thought begin to wander as they are so prone to do in showers. The topic of interest this morning just so happens to be Hercules Mulligan, first baseman for the Philadelphia Phillies, the guy on the other end of a call just a room away, the guy who’s wearing a tanktop just a room away. Those arms were good, very good. Beyond good, in a way that will surely be haunting Lafayette for nights and morning to come. Only so much can be revealed under long sleeve baseball uniforms, and only so much can be imagined. Seeing it up close is a whole different story. Seeing Hercules’ shirt slip up while he reached for his cat, revealing more abdominal skin than Lafayette needed to see, but all of which they wanted to see….

Not something to be thinking about in a shower with said man just a ways away. Ish.Not when more than Lafayette’s mind is interested in such matters. Well, it’s not like their phone would be able to pick up any potential noises would it? Just as Lafayette’s hand begins to move across their hips, they stop. Time. Hercules will know something’s up if they take too long, and doesn’t that just suck. Maybe they should have told him to hang up. Damn it.

They finish up the shower quickly (well, as quickly as can be done with their hair at the length and thickness it is), and in equal haste, dry off and get dressed. When Lafayette picks up their phone from their bed to plug it into the lamp, while the call is still going, Hercules is gone. Lafayette just shrugs and sets the phone down on the nightstand and turns on the TV to let some noise fill into the silent room.

A small noise from their phone brings Lafayette quickly going over to where their phone is sitting on the nightstand, however it’s not Hercules their met with, but Frosted Flakes. And a… Lafayette’s eyes widen when they see just what the cat is carrying, their cheeks flaring with heat. That’s definitely an… interesting thing for a cat to be getting into. Rather proudly, the white cat is holding a bright red dildo in its mouth. Oh.

“Flakes, where the hell did you go!?” Lafayette is frozen looking at the screen as Hercules comes in with an annoyed huff, grumbling something under his breath. “You damn cat, what the hell is wrong with y-?” He cuts off at the sight of Lafayette, who is pretty sure that, even with the shit lighting of their hotel room, what has to be a horrible blush is visible on their cheeks.

Lafayette doesn’t know what to do or say. What are you supposed to say in this situation? They were never taught what to do when your friend of less than a month’s cat brings out a dildo. It’s really not something they ever thought would happen. “I uh… personally, I prefer blue and purple myself…” Lafayette says awkwardly, flicking their tongue out quickly.

“Oh my god,” Hercules whispers shakily, finally walking the rest of the way to his cat and firmly taking the toy back. Lafayette can just barely make out that his hands are shaking. It sends their mind racing to try and get it to stop because, yes, while this is definitely an interesting situation to be found in, Hercules looks a little more terrified than he needs to be.

Hercules isn’t looking at the phone, only to the floor, and wow, okay, Lafayette really doesn’t like the way he’s frozen up. At all. “This really can’t be any worse than the time one of my friends from France, Adrienne, walked in on me with a vibe up my ass moaning the name of her best friend’s brother,” they say without thinking, just trying to diffuse the tension. And while they really don’t enjoy being forced to relive that, it’s worth it to see Hercules get a little knocked out of his state.

“That does sound a little more mortifying than this,” Hercules agrees, awkwardly looking to the camera. And with the way his phone has been staying still, it must be propped up somehow, which isn’t fair. “Fuck, sorry, this is just not what I’m used to dealing with, Laf.”

Lafayette shoots him a reassuring smile, large and all teeth. “I may be worried if it was a common occurrence. Look, it doesn’t have to be any more awkward than it already is, yeah? We’re both grown people, and we both own dildos. Until your cat comes around with whips and chains in its mouth, I think we’ll be okay.”

Hercules laughs loudly at that, his nose crinkling and Lafayette can’t help but stare. They wouldn’t be surprised if small pink hearts appeared in their eyes with how they’re completely enraptured. Fuck. “I don’t have anything like that lying around here, sorry to disappoint.”

“Damn it, thought you were into that kind of shit. How ever will I break the news to the team? A tragedy.”

Hercules rolls his eyes, and finally throws the dildo on his bed, rolling his eyes. “Alright there, french fry, don’t you have a flight to catch?”

Sadly. And Lafayette would get on Hercules for the french fry thing, because really, how unoriginal, but it’s Hercules. “Yeah, yeah. Party pooper. Talk to ya later?” they ask, hopefully.

“Yeah, later. Have a good flight, man.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also also, this week's schedule: finals, finals, finals, panic cleaning, panic cleaning, early ass flight. And then, after that, I have more fun: two day driving, a week with no wifi, another two/three days of driving, THEN i'm with wifi, but not necessarily a laptop? Don't know. But i'll try, my dudes. I'll try.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel the beginning is really shaky. I don't know, I tried to fix it, but I don't feel like I did too well, but hey, it is my own writing, so who knows.

The extra sleep from the night before leaves Lafayette a surge of energy to a point where it becomes hard for them to keep still as the game approaches. When the team is getting changed, every nerve of theirs is on end; their vision is clearer, colours brighter, sounds louder, every smell strong, all sensed heightened with the rush. Or maybe the source of everything isn't a matter of sleep, but instead just a content happiness. 

The beginning of the game gives Twins the field, which is a small frustration to Lafayette, but one they don't dwell on much. With away games, it is a bit disappointing that they don't really get to start the game, but it's easy to not focus on such things when thoughts of Hercules cloud their mind. While their team bats, Lafayette lets themself get lost in thought while sending a ball flying through the air, fast and hard, and, despite the fact that they’re paying little to no attention to what they’re doing, the ball follows a path true to what was intended of it. When someone finally comes to get Lafayette, the score is a good 2-0. That’ll be easy to keep.

Walking onto the field, Lafayette holds their head high. Their eyes are bright, and it takes every ounce of self control to keep a visible bounce from their step. The smile on their face is a mix of their usual cocky, self-confidence and an almost dazed one. It’s with a grace granted only by familiarity that Lafayette falls into the routine of the game.

 

Lafayette sets a new personal record during the game, averaging at 99mph on their fastballs. To say that the Jays are happy with it would be an understatement, the whole team riding on a bit of a high after winning 11-1. But, for whatever reason that Lafayette cannot see, they all seem to be hyped about their performance at the bottom of the first.

Lafayette can’t help but feel a bit like a dick for not being as excited as everyone else seems to be. Or even excited at all. Everywhere they turn, someone is talking about them. Everyone is throwing around “Did you see him!?”s and “Man, Laf, that guy, he has it going for him”s and every time one of them hits their ears, they have to keep from outwardly cringing. Lafayette hates that they’re not used to the misgendering at this point - they’re a goddamn major league baseball player, they’re constantly being called a he - which makes it even worse when they feel like snapping. It’s not like their team knows, so it’s not _their_ fault, not in Lafayette’s mind. But it still hurts.

When Lafayette feels their phone vibrate in their back pocket, they’re all too eager to excuse themself to see what it is. With delight, they see Hercules’ name flash across the screen, and they happily open it. 

**From: Herc :0 >> _U busy?_**

Technically? Yes. Does Hercules need to know that? No.

**To: Herc :0 >> _im all urs whatdya need_**  
**From: Herc :0 >> _Would I be able to call!_**  
**From: Herc :0 >> _*?_**  
**To: Herc :0 >> _yeah just gimme a sec_**

Lafayette hurries back into the small crowd of their team and other people, and grabs the nearest person there, Travis, recognizable only by the small ponytail his hair is in. They quickly tell the man that their aunt wants to call them, so they're going to head back to their room. Travis laughs and gives them a thumbs up before turning back to the girl he was talking to, giving Lafayette the go ahead to leave.

Despite none of the team being able to drink during seasons, it had been decided that they'd all get together in a bar a few blocks away from the hotel lodging a majority of them all. Why they couldn't have all just gathered in somebody’s room, Lafayette doesn't know. They would have willingly given up their own if needed, but alas, no, that wasn't allowed. But now, because of the absolutely ridiculous decision, they have walk back to the hotel.

**To: Herc :0 >> _i might be able to call now w/out vid if u want. Im walking back to mY hotel_**

Instead of sending Lafayette another text, Hercules calls them not even a minute after Lafayette’s message is sent. Smiling, Lafayette pulls out a pair of earbuds from their pocket and plugs them in before answering. 

“Aye, c’est une bonne soir quand tu téléphones!”

“Wow, only a good night?” Hercules teases, sighing dramatically. “Can’t believe you, Laf. I thought that I was more important to you. You know, you make my day at least very good with your calls.”

Lafayette laughs, the corner of their eyes crinkling in delight. “Hey, since when did you speak French?” they ask, still smiling while walking down the dimly lit street. “You never…” Lafayette trails off as something moves in front of them.

“I never what?” Hercules questions.

Lafayette squints their eyes to try and see past the dark, but they can’t make anything out. The streetlights don’t do well enough to illuminate the ground below them, so after a moment of seeing nothing else move, they continue on. “Nothing, nothing.”

 

Hercules waits for Lafayette to continue on the other end of the line, the other player seemingly distracted with something. Which, with the way they’re apparently walking home, Hercules can’t blame them for it. It doesn’t matter how many times he walks outside in larger cities, he’s always looking at the different skylines when away from home. Well, even at home he still likes to look at the familiar sight of what he’s grown to know as home in America.

It doesn’t take long for Lafayette to speak again. ”So, Mr. Mulligan, master of French, comment a-ton jour été?”

Hercules hopes the hitch in his breath can’t be heard by Lafayette. Sitting alone in bed in his small apartment, his cat doing god knows what away from him, his guards are completely down. Lafayette switching back to their native tongue is doing things to Hercules that he is not ready to deal with when said person causing them is on the other end of a phone call. Maybe he could deal with such things if it were physical, if Lafayette was turning him on (again) with that smooth voice of theirs, but the ease that they speak out of English does little more than just tug at Hercules’ heart and mind, the want to hear them speak like that to him more often coming in full force, even if Hercules really doesn’t understand French all too well. It’s only a small grasp on it, no better at French than he is with Spanish thanks to Alex’s insistence at teaching him a little about the languages. 

“I don’t really understand too much French, Laf,” Hercules says awkwardly. He doesn’t want to tell Lafayette that, but he also wants to be able to understand them when speaking to him, so it’s an admission he knows was needed to be told to the Frenchman.

Lafayette laughs lightly on the other end, and despite how faint it is, it’s like bells to Hercules’ ears, chiming through the horrible filter of the phone into his ears. Hercules can’t imagine a sound any better than Lafayette’s laugh, and considering all the times he’s thought of how they’d sound while moaning, fingers up their ass or mouth around their cock, or even what they’d say fucking him hard into the bed, it’s definitely a sound to remember.

“I asked how your day has been,” Lafayette tells him. And it’s a good thing he asked them what they said because Hercules heard something about summer and was very lost about it.

“Good. Long, I was waiting for when I could call you, if I’m being honest.” As soon as Hercules says it, he regrets it, but he can’t take it back. It was stupid. What better way to make yourself sound like a creeper to a silly crush than to tell them about how you were waiting all day to call them. Great job as being subtle. If great job means real shit job, that is.

“Well you have me now, my friend. You have me now. I’m close to the hotel, do you want me to turn on my video when I’m up there or not?” Is that even a question?

Yes. “Yes, if it doesn’t bother you.”

Lafayette laughs again, and Hercules didn’t even say anything funny, but he doesn’t care. As long as Lafayette is making that noise, happy, Hercules doesn’t care. He wonders what Lafayette must look like laughing right now, if their head is thrown back or not, if they have one of their large smiles on their face, outlines by the low city lights, the never quite dark light of the big city at night above them. They’re beautiful, that much he knows. No matter what, they’re beautiful, whether their hair is pulled back or if their curls are let loose to fall around their face, whether their eyes or closed or open wide to see through the absence of the sun. They’re eyes probably crinkle is joy when they laugh, and wouldn’t that just be something.

So maybe crush is an understatement. Maybe. More than maybe. Hercules is certain that the little crush he developed on Lafayette as they energetically ran him through the ROM has blown out of proportion. But their damn smile and dark eyes and voice and their assured voice and laugh is just impossible for Hercules to _not_ fall for the guy.

“No no, it would never bother me, just give me minute to get up to my floor,” Lafayette says quickly, and Hercules makes a noise of agreement, but doesn’t say anything. He can feintly hear the sound of the elevator dinging as it passes each floor, and within a minute, he hears a door closing in the background. “Just give me a second, I’m going to hang up quickly.”

As soon as the sound cuts off, Hercules pulls his phone away from his face and quickly grabs his laptop from his bedside table and turns it on. By the time it boots up, Lafayette is calling him, and he happily answers, turning his video on.

The first thing Hercules notices is how Lafayette looks worn out, eyes tired. He can barely see the traces of their previous joy and laughter. “You okay, dude?” Hercules asks worriedly, adjusting his screen so that he can sit up straighter.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good, Herc,” Lafayette says, rubbing a hand over their face. “Just… a long day, you know.”

Whatever it is, it’s more than a long day. Something is bothering Lafayette. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Lafayette hesitates, opening their mouth before closing it again. “No, not really,” they eventually let out, words slow, conflict panting their face.

“That’s okay. So 11-1, that is a pretty damn good game you guys played today.” Hercules smiles brightly, trying to lighten the mood as much as he can. It seems to work, as Lafayette soon matches the grin with their own large smile. “I watched, you were good out there.” Looked good.

“Yeah, well, could have done better,” Lafayette mumbles.

Hercules can tell they use their phone for this, the way that the camera is just a little too shaky giving it away. That and how Lafayette moves around with it like they have some nervous energy to get out. “We can all always do better, Laf. Doesn’t mean you weren’t good.”

Lafayette sighs and puts their phone down. “I suppose. Hey, give me a second, I need to change quickly.” They come back quickly, wearing a thin tank white top and what Hercules thinks he saw as just a loose pair of boxers. Not that he was looking. “I’m kind of tired, Herc. Je veux- I want to sleep.”

If it’s possible, Lafayette looks even more tired than before. “No problem, you want me to hang up, or..?”

“No, please don’t. Please stay,” they whisper, laying down in their bed. “Please don’t leave. S’il te plait.”

“I’m not going anywhere, French Fry,” Hercules assures softly. “You get some sleep, hot shot.”

“Goodnight, mon coeur.”

Hercules pretends that he doesn’t understand that.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not porn, but it's not not porn. Ya feel?

Hercules can’t help but feel awkward watching Lafayette sleep. They had been pretty adamant in Hercules not hanging up, and yet it feels wrong. Something is obviously bothering them. Hercules knows that it’s not his business - if Lafayette doesn’t want to tell him, that’s perfectly fine, it’s their choice - but it doesn’t stop the curiosity from scratching at him. They looked too worn out, too exhausted.

Even in sleep, Lafayette doesn’t look completely peaceful. While their eyes are closed, head laying limp on the pillow below their head, there’s still a stiffness to them. Their jaw looks right, and while their head doesn’t move, Hercules can hear some part of their body moving. He shouldn’t assume thing about Lafayette, he doesn’t know them well enough, but Lafayette just seems off.

Caught up in his thoughts, Hercules doesn’t notice Frosted Flakes coming up to him until the cat is rubbing the top of his head against Hercules’ arm in a search for attention. “What’s up with you, Flakes?” he asks softly, gently running his hand down the cat’s back, In return, he gets a soft meow. “You looking for attention, you trouble maker? Of course you are, when aren’t you?”

Hercules quickly glances to the clock in the corner of his laptop screen and internally cringes. Already eleven at night, and he needs to be awake by four in the morning. Damn. He scratches from behind Frosted Flakes’ ear to his jaw before drawing away. “Time for bed, little monster,” he murmurs, sliding his laptop to the side. “Early morning tomorrow.”

 

Hercules wakes up slowly to a quiet tune on his phone. He rolls over to turn off before himself up.Unsurprisingly Frosted Flakes is gone. With a quiet groan, he turns to look at the times. Only two in the morning. When he looks at he number who called him, he comes up with nothing but an unknown number. With a huff, he turns back over on his side to go back to sleep. 

Just as Hercules closes his eyes, he hears a sound come from his computer. He quickly turns his head to the side and sees movement coming from Lafayette. The lamp next to their bed is on, but because of the fact that Lafayette is using their phone and not a computer, the camera isn’t very well aimed at them. Hercules has no idea what part of Lafayette he is seeing.

Another noise get Hercules’ attention. It sounds almost like a moan, and now he’s completely focusses on the call. A muffled “fuck” followed by a clear, desperate whimper tells Hercules exactly what Lafayette is doing, causing him to blush deeply.

Once more, Hercules is faced with the choice of hanging up on Lafayette or not. On one hand, they deserve their privacy. There is no way Lafayette is doing this with the intent of Hercules waking up. But that’s the thing. Lafayette isn’t doing this to wake Hercules up. They also didn’t hang up before doing it, which means they don’t want the call to end. If he hangs up now, they’ll likely know Hercules woke up to seeing this.

When Lafayette gasps breathlessly, the sound goes directly to Hercules’ dick. Fuck. Now he’s definitely as awake as he can be at two in the morning with an abrupt wake up call (literally), and really doesn’t want to turn this off. Not while Lafayette is making these noises. Not when he’s already half hard in his bed with his object of interest touching themself. Damn it.

“Shit, merde, Dieu. S’il te plait. Monsieur, s’il vous plait, ça fait de bien. Plus. Donnes-moi plus.”

Hercules bites his bottom lip, mind still clouded with sleep. He shouldn’t be listening to this, yet…. He slowly slips his hand under the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers, and runs his hand along the length of his increasingly hard cock. He easily brings his mind to the image of Lafayette, and lets his imagination fill in all the gaps to go along with the noises they’re making.

How they must look right now escapes Hercules’ eyes, but not his mind. He can see Lafayette spread out on the bed, hair falling into a curly halo around their head, dark eyes blown, abdomen fluttering from the pleasure running through them. They’d have one hand around their cock with a blue - no, purple - toy up their ass while grinding down onto it. Their lips would be slightly parted, the outline of their teeth just barely visible at the top of the opening while their tongue comes to the front as they take in shaky breaths. How soft Lafayette’s hair must feel. If only Hercules could pull it, hear the sounds they’d make as he ran his hands through it, toyed with their nipples and let them fuck his mouth, losing themself in pleasure.

Hercules himself loses himself to the image, eyes closed as the sounds Lafayette makes washes over him. He loses times as he twists his wrist and hand in an expert way, occasionally brushing over the head, unaware if he’s making any noises himself.

Lafayette groans louder, more verbal and frantic sounding as the times passes, urging Hercules speed up. THe last thing he hears before cumming is a small, whispered “Hercules” that sends him over the edge unexpectedly, forcing him to quickly bite his tongue to keep back his own moan of Lafayette’s name.

Hercules sits in a daze, floating, already having been half asleep before the unexpected arousal. He’s vaguely aware of how he feels dirty and sticky, knowing that if he doesn’t go to clean up now, it will only take longer when he wakes up. But Lafayette’s heavy breathing keeps him in place, makes his eyes droop low with the momentary comfort provided by the post-orgasmic bliss. With a content sigh, Hercules drifts back to sleep.

 

Lafayette looks cautiously at their phone, watching as Hercules drifts back to sleep. They’re not sure what to make of this. They hadn’t been sure if Hercules had woken up at first, but as soon as he had began to make noises likely matching their own, they knew. At the time, they hadn’t cared. If Lafayette is being honest, they enjoyed it, got off on the noise Hercules let slip, but now, the high is gone.

How the hell can they confront him tomorrow morning? Does Hercules know Lafayette noticed him? Will he mention is tomorrow? Is Lafayette supposed to? Either way, tomorrow will likely be incredibly awkward for the both of them, whether or not the topic brought up.

Lafayette feels like they fucked up majorly. Hercules wasn’t supposed to wake up, and Lafayette is ninety percent sure that they didn’t imagine moaning Hercules’ name.

Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, like, every French thing in this fic is done by hand from me, so if i fuck something up, please tell me. I'm no Google Translate bad, but I also don't always know if I'm using the correct verb or things like that.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. Hello. I don't know why I made this chapter like this, but guess what, I did.
> 
> Egh, it's almost 1.5k. Like, so close it hurts. But it's not quite. Sad face sad face, my folks.

Whatever time it is, it’s too early for any alarm to be going off. Which means it’s not Lafayette’s alarm that is ringing, while quietly, very annoyingly. Or maybe it isn’t annoying, and it’s just too early for this to be going off, which is a very likely possibility. Not that Lafayette cares, he just wants it to stop.

When it continues to ring, Lafayette huffs, rolling over onto their back, slapping around their bed. “Tais-toi, éteindre. Dieu, silence, silence, s’il te plait, silence,” they groan, hand finally reaching their phone. “Merde, tais-toi.” The ringing of an alarm sharply shuts off without warning. “Merci. Je vais dormir,” they grumble, already feeling themself slip back under.

“Shit, sorry, sorry.”

Lafayette’s eyes snap open at the sound of Hercules’ voice. The fatigue crawling at the edge of their mind lurks around every corner of their thoughts, but they’re awake. Hercules. Earlier that night (morning). Lafayette tries to keep their breathing from quickening, turning on their side so that they can push their face down into the pillow, but they can still feel anxiety creeping through them.

Lafayette half expects Hercules to say something like “about last night” or “hey, about earlier”, but he doesn’t, staying oddly silent while crawling out of bed. Or maybe it’s not odd considering the time, but it’s still a silence, and Lafayette isn’t sure if that’s better or worse than him actually speaking. Does he know that Lafayette knows that he woke up earlier? Is he purposefully not bringing things up because he thinks Lafayette doesn’t know? Is he avoiding the subject for the same reason Lafayette is? Is he just tired? The silence eats away at them.

“Hey, Herc,” Lafayette calls out, eyes drooping closed at the late hour.

“Yes, Lafayette?” Hercules asks. It sounds formal, too formal, and makes Lafayette squirm. “You need something?”

Lafayette takes a steadying breath. They’ve already forgotten what hey were going to say, if they were even planning on saying something specific in the first place. Their mind is alight with nerves and anxiety, but their body is tired, brain tired, everything tired. “Um, have a good flight. And game,” they mumble, not really thinking about what they’re saying. It all feels to mechanical, but it’s not like they can tell him that they love him. Because they do. “Be safe. G’night. I’m tired.” It’s an awkward end, but what’s even more awkward is Hercules not saying anything in return, only clicking to end the call without even asking.

With a sigh, Lafayette urges themself back to sleep.

 

With waking up two times during the night and emotional confusion and distress, Lafayette is far from awake. They’ve tried everything to try and get themself awake, even resorting to having two cups of black coffee, but nothing gives them the kick they need. If anything, the coffee made things worse, caffeine only fueling their twitchiness.

Come the game, Lafayette is content to not be playing. While they can’t really sit still for the life of them; it’s better than pitching unfocused, trying to concentrate on a ball and people, certain locations, when they can’t even focus on their own self and mind. It’s more of a joyless relief when the game ends than any victory, despite the Blue Jays gaining a victory 6-4.

This time there are no celebrations, but the game was early, starting at noon, ending just past three, which means Hercules still has a little less than three hours before his game starts. Lafayette wants to message him anything, even another good luck, but Hercules acted almost cold this morning.

Oh god, what if he never wants to speak to them again?

It’s an irrational thought, Lafayette knows, but they still worry about it. They’ve only known Hercules for so long, only just began to video call with him, and they’ve always fallen asleep on him. It must be so annoying. They’re probably really annoying, really. First meeting they dragged Hercules around a museum like so kid, and they got off with Hercules watching them. They have moaned his name. Hercules had heard them moan his name. He probably wants nothing to do with them now. While Lafayette knows they look good, they also know that now every person wants to be with them. 

So maybe Lafayette should address last night? Or they can play the fun game of avoidance and not.

**To: Herc :0 >> _omg good luck later!! Idk why im sayin ill say it again but gl!_**   
**From: Herc :0 >> _Thanks! :) you guys did good_**

Lafayette sighs. The response is quick, but it’s not Hercules. Not really. There isn’t any fun in his message, and the smiley doesn’t fit correctly in it. 

**To: Herc :0 >> _no thanks to me rip :( i kinda wanted to play :(( ur so lucky i get to be first base every game herc_**   
**From: Herc :0 >> _Hah! Yeah_**

Lafayette bites their bottom lip, pain tugging at their heart. They had definitely screwed up last night.

**To: Herc :0 >> _everything ok??_**   
**From: Herc :0 >> _Yeah?? It’s all good_**   
**To: Herc :0 >> _ok.._**

Lafayette throws their phone down on their bed in frustration and runs a hand over their face. Whatever. It’s not like anything could have happened. Nothing would be able to last with them, even if they tried.

 

Hercules looks at the message, confusion twisting in his gut. It has been all day, making him restless on the flight and through all of the day. He knows he’s acting off, is trying not to, but he’s lost and doesn’t know what to do. When he first woke up in the morning, he was content to believe that earlier that night had been nothing more than a dream, but as soon as he moved and felt the evidence, he had frozen up, shut himself up from all words he was going to say.

Lafayette had said his name. That has to mean something. Right? Lafayette had been thinking of _him_ at some point while getting themself off. Him. Hercules Mulligan. Unless there’s some other Hercules that Lafayette knows, but he doubts there is. But Hercules doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do with this information. Sure, he likes Lafayette - a lot - but he never imagined actually being able to do anything with these feelings. He never imagined that such feelings could be returned, but in some way, the attraction is returned, even if only physically. It scares Hercules a little bit.

So maybe Hercules panicked a little bit, is still panicking. Maybe He’s acted incredibly stupid in his panic. Well, that one is more than a maybe. Hercules has for sure acted incredibly stupid in his panic and confusion. Even though last night might as well have played into one of his various fantasies, Hercules has never thought past it. So what happens when he figures out Lafayette likes him in some way? What next?

Apparently, scare them off. Damn it. Do they even want to talk to him right now? Hercules, while not acting like an outright ass to Lafayette, has been treating them different today. In his panic, he had abruptly hung up on them because he didn’t know if he’s say something stupid. Looking through his messages again, Hercules realizes hasn’t been so casual with Lafayette as before.

“Shit,” he groans, leaning back in the small arm chair in his hotel room. “Shit, shit, shit. Good going, genius.”

Hearing Lafayette this morning when they woke up to his alarm was like a dream come true. Sure, they hadn’t been very awake, and Hercules really wouldn’t have been surprised of they had been cursing him out for waking them up that early, but they had their guards down. There was no filter because Hercules was around. They obviously just let their annoyance flood through their mouth, freely speaking how they would were they at home, alone. It’s what Hercules wants to hear again. Hasn’t he done a pretty damn fine job at making sure that will happen again.

“God damn it.”

Relationships are not Hercules’ strong suit, but he’s going to have to make them be it if he’s going to get Lafayette back. 

**To: CANADA’S FAVE BASEBALL PLAYIN FRENCHMAN >> _sorry im being such an ass laf_**   
**From: CANADA’S FAVE BASEBALL PLAYIN FRENCHMAN >> _im just so confused im so sorry_**


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who knows what I was aiming for with this chapter. Not I. Don't mind the slightly effed up writing style I got going on.
> 
> Blah blah, I could spill some horribly emotional, personal thoughts and feelings on what happened, but really, that's draining on me. Sorry? Do I need to apologize for that? I don't know, I guess. Blegh.

Lafayette is really not in any condition for any sort of conversation with Hercules that is not discussing baseball. Or animals. Maybe even food. It is all their own fault, they know, but that doesn’t make their inability to converse about actual issues any less real. So maybe they saw Hercules’ texts and didn’t answer. And maybe they watched Hercules’ team smash the Orielles before getting completely hammered (which may actually be against the contract they signed that clearly had things against alcohol). Really, a big maybe and all Lafayette’s own fault.

But, studies show that drunk people are known to do stupid things. Like strike up the conversations that they couldn’t handle while sober. Lafayette sees nothing wrong in talking about anything when drunk. Maria laughs at this, Adrienne rolls her eyes at it, and George is a little put off by it (thanks to the very eventful night when Lafayette proclaimed that if someone like George wanted to bend them over their knee and spank them until their ass was raw, Lafayette would be happy). Lafayette? Is too drunk to think about how they feel about the matter.

**To: Herc :0 >> _Ngl i wanna show u wht a real ass looks like_**   
**To: Herc :0 >> _My ass to be precise it’s really good lookin_**   
**To: Herc :0 >> _Im not srry abt my nice ass ;*_**

And if this is the wrong thing to say, it won’t matter. Until tomorrow morning, that is. For now, Lafayette s content to sit back and see where everything goes. Hopefully that’ll be able to show Hercules their ass later. In a uniform too, would be nice. It looks good in the pants, squeezing just right. Well, according to various people who have seen it in private.

**From: Herc :0 >> _What??_**

Oh, see, now that’s rude. Right there. _That_ Hercules should be apologizing for, not whatever his problem was earlier. He doesn’t immediately get all excited about seeing Lafayette’s butt. That hurts. A lot.

On the topic of butts, Hercules also has a really fine one. Like, _really_ fine.

**To: Herc :0 >> _Booty booty_**   
**To: Herc :0 >> _U also got a nice booty i like it_**   
**To: Herc :0 >> _;)_**

If that doesn’t get their point across, Lafayette doesn’t know what will. They also don’t know what their point is. But, they think, it’s a point. Of some sort. A pointy point. A pointy point that can prick the skin. Pricks are dicks. Hercules probably has a nice dick.

Oh, and isn’t that a nice thought? Lafayette licks their lips while they stare blankly at the turned off screen of the TV in their hotel room. Well, it’s a semi-blank stare, something that depends on the point of view. While anyone on the outside would see nothing in their eyes, Lafayette is very much seeing what they are thinking, and they are thinking Hercules, and all the potential images of glorious Hercules Mulligan dick. It’s a nice program playing. Almost like the Miss USA pageant, only with less faces and more groins and hands.

**From: Herc :0 >> _Are you okay Laf????_**

Oh the fucker. Does being horny and drunk count as being okay? If it does, yes, Lafayette is magical. It not, then they’re the opposite of okay. But, that’s okay because they’re horny and drunk; nothing in the world can stop their ability to get lost in some fantasy. Except maybe their grandmother walking in, but guess what, she’s in Quebec. Unless she’s some sort of teleporting alien, that’s not going to happen!

**To: Herc :0 >> _Ye i think_**   
**To: Herc :0 >> _Do u thnk my gma is an alien_**   
**To: Herc :0 >> _fck wldnt that make me an alien_**   
**To: Herc :0 >> _R u an alien?_**   
**To: Herc :0 >> _DO u hv a weird alien vulcan dick_**   
**From: Herc :0 >> _You don’t sound like you’re okay there, buddy_**

Buddy. Who the hell does Hercules think they are? His son? Okay, Lafayette could probably get on board with that if that’s what it took to be with Hercules, but for now, no. Lafayette is not “buddy”. That’s like… like “no homo”. Buddy. Lafayette can show Hercules “buddy”.

**To: Herc :0 >> _Dude i am ok i promise bt u cld totes call me and then u can see im ok u know problem s o l v e d im a genius je suis intelligent ;*****_**   
**From: Herc :0 >> _You sure you want me to call?_**

Oh yeah.

**To: Herc :0 >> _Def <33333333_**   
**To: Herc :0 >> _8---- >_**

It takes Lafayette a minute to realize that their phone is ringing because Hercules is calling them, and that they need to hit the camera button. Maybe so much alcohol was a bad idea. Maybe. Lafayette can not find themself giving a single flying fuck at this moment. 

“Yo yo yo, Hercules Mulligan, mon coeur, what is up? Other than the sky. And space. The moon. Mars. Jupiter. Saturn. Ven-”

“Lafayette, are you drunk?”

Ouch. Caught red handed right off the bat. Hercules is one smart cookie, isn’t he. Well, what to do when your hand is caught in the cookie jar? Lafayette pouts down at their screen, pushing their bottom lip out and widening their eyes. “Not really. I didn’t have too much, I promise,” they manage to get out slowly. Even they can hear their accent, thick and lazy, slower than normal. It probably does nothing for their case, but what can they do?

“Jesus Christ, why did you drink anything in the first place?” Hercules asks.

Good question. Lafayette can’t remember the answer to this question right now, please leave a message at the beep. _Beeeeeeep._ What a dream that would be to be able to just do that. So, Lafayette gives the next best answer of, “My ass looks really good.”

The picture of Hercules is surprisingly steady, something Lafayette is vaguely aware of being so do to them being a pitcher. Otherwise, they’re a little too busy staring at Hercules as he runs his hand over his face with a sigh to really be thinking about how their phone isn’t shaking. Hercules uses a computer. Smart man. Smart smart. Where was Lafayette going with this?

“Lafayette!”

The words break Lafayette away from themself, and it looks like Hercules had been saying something, but Lafayette has no idea what it was. Simply solution to that. “What?” they ask.

“Oh my god,” Hercules groans, eyes flicking up to the ceiling for just a moment - his eyes are really pretty, Lafayette likes them - before coming back to look directly at Lafayette. “I asked if you’re in your hotel room right now.”

Hm, hotel room. Yes, yes they are. “Um, totally, ya know. My bed, my TV. I’m also alone. You wanna see my butt? I wanna show you my butt, let your pretty eyes see it. It’s also pretty,” Lafayette says, letting a grin creep onto their lips.

They’re tired. As Lafayette looks at Hercules, sees his lips moving but barely able to make out his refusal, they become extremely aware of just how tired they are. It tugs at their mind. It hasn’t quite made its way to their eyes, but it will. Lafayette can feel it creeping up as they begin to feel heavy. But they’re intent to fight it, to keep watch of the way Hercules moves, to let Hercules keep them here. They don’t want to sleep.

“Tired,” Lafayette finally mumbles, falling onto their back in the bed, phone awkwardly being held above them.

“Get some sleep, Laf,” Hercules says gently. Well, Lafayette assumes Hercules says it. Their eyes are already closed, head sinking into the pillow below their head as sleep quickly comes around to take them away from the present world.

 

Hercules debates whether or not he should hang up. Again. It really is a battle he faces more than he should. Lafayette never seems to mind when he keeps the call running, but he can’t help but feel guilty when doing it. Especially now that Lafayette is drunk. They may deny their actual intoxication levels, but Hercules has been around enough drunk people to know that Lafayette is not going to enjoy their morning at all tomorrow. Is Hercules going to try and help them through it? Absolutely.

This entire call was a bit of a bust for Hercules. He had been ready to talk with Lafayette about earlier, wanted to talk to them about it and get things sorted out. But, Lafayette had been in no condition to talk about it. They didn’t even seem to be aware of anything having gone wrong earlier. And maybe they did remember, but didn’t care. Hercules isn’t some telepathic genius. It’d be pretty damn nice if he was, though. Lafayette would be a lot easier like that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um.. all y'all that comment/leave kudos rock. Just sayin. Love ya. :*


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi :)
> 
> In honour of Blue Jays playing the Phillies today (actually right now, and being ahead 5-2), have an unedited chapter. Seriously I didn't even try and read through this rip.

Lafayette has maybe a second after waking up to feel the peace of being oblivious to everything before they’re rolling over in pain, shoving their face into their pillow. “Ow, merde,” they groan, clenching their eyes shut, moving their hand frantically to find their phone to shut of thee insistent ringing their alarm is giving off. It doesn’t take long for their desperate reaching to find their phone on the other end of the bed.

As soon as the sound stops, Lafayette breaths a sigh of relief. Fuck, it’s too early for this. They sure as hell remember why they got drunk, that one is hard to forget, but with the nature of that matter, they’re busy praying to god that they didn’t actually try and approach that subject. Interesting things have been said to people before, especially ones they’re attracted to. George still refuses to be anywhere near them if they’ve had more than a single drink. Not that Lafayette’s feelings for him have every changed. Not even they can deny that he looks good.

“How’re you feeling, Laf?” Lafayette jumps a little in the bed at Hercules’ tired voice. Fuck, when did he call? What did he say? What did _they_ say? Just… play it cool.

And brutally honest, if need be.

“Like someone took a chainsaw to the back of my head before shoving me through a woodchipper,” they groan, and rather unattractively at that. “The fuck happened? Fuck how much did I drink…?”

Hercules coughs a little, and when they speak, while it’s a little more clear than before, it is still clear that he is tired. “No idea how much you drank, but I’d assume a lot. I think. You w-”

“Oh my god,” Lafayette gasps suddenly, rolling, quite literally, out of bed, landing stomach down on the floor with a painful thump. “Je vais vomir, gimme a second,” they get out before running to the bathroom, cutting off whatever it was Hercules had been going to say.

Moments like this make Lafayette regret the idea of alcohol ever passing through their mind. When they’re bent over an unfamiliar toilet (not that it’s any better when it’s their own toilet, but at least then they know when it was last cleaned) and spilling the contents of their stomach, which, because of how long it’s been since they’ve eaten, is painfully acidic, they are more than willing to curse the name of alcohol. Especially since they still can’t remember what the hell was said between them and Hercules the night before.

They stay like this for a few minutes, mostly because they still feel queasy, but also in part to avoid any further conversations with Hercules. Maybe, they think, if they stay here long enough, he’ll hang up on them again. Except Hercules wasn’t acting like last morning; he sounded worried, much more open again. He called them Laf. Well now Lafayette feels kind of like a dick sitting here for so long, because if he isn’t feeling like he was yesterday, then he could be sitting there waiting for them to come back.

“Je peux pas gagner,” Lafayette mumbles, pushing themself up off the floor and flushing the toilet. This has to happen before they do something stupid again.

With shoulders drooped more dramatically than necessary, Lafayette walks back to where their phone sits. How it didn’t die in the night, Lafayette doesn’t know. It really depends on whether or not it had started out plugged in at some point, and just ended up on the other end of the completely destroyed bed or not. But, not about to take the gift of it still being on five percent, they quickly plug it in before telling Hercules to give them one more moment to grab some Advil.

They don’t immediately go for the pills they they do have stashed away in a small side pocket of their suitcase. Instead, Lafayette grabs their laptop bag leaning against it. Time to do this a bit more smarter. Lafayette is not about to start talking feelings while trying to keep from holding their phone too close to their face. After picking the bag up, they do grab the bottle before shaking out two into the palm of their hand.

On their way to the bathroom, Lafayette drops the bag on the bed as quietly as possible before continuing on their way. Once upon a time they thought they were cool for swallowing pills dry. They feel pretty damn lucky that they didn’t do it long enough to ever hurt themselves, but it is a never again situation. 

As they stand in front of the mirror, water running in front of them and pills placed to the side, Lafayette looks at themself. Their hair is a mess, going whichever way it wants to, but that’s not the most unusual thing to ever happen. But they look tired, wearing rumpled jeans and an old blue t-shirt. The bags under their eyes are larger than necessary, more noticeable, and just the way they move is filled with exhaustion. The look really isn’t really helped with their continuous squinting they’re doing thanks to the annoyingly bright lights above the sink. This bathroom is not equipped for hangovers. At all.

Finally they take the pills and walk back out of the bathroom, happily flicking the light switches down. Time to take on the world, it seems. Well, Hercules. Time to take on Hercules, someone who has become an unreasonably large part of their world with how he is constantly on their mind (and in their heart). Lafayette is an idiot. This is all stupid and a mistake. But they don’t care.

You know what would be better than any of this? Staying in bed, lights off, in dead silence, and going back to sleep. Instead of thinking about feelings and emotions, about Hercules, they could be lying in bed after calling in sick. If they were asleep, they wouldn’t feel the god awful pain splitting their head in two. But would they even be able to urge themself back to sleep with how much is going through their head, right alongside the pain? Probably not.

Slowly, a sense of doom and hope settling deep in Lafayette’s stomach, side by side, they walk back to where their phone rests. “Hey, Herc, I’m going to boot up my laptop and call you from it if that’s okay with you. We uh… I think we should talk.”

Lafayette looks down at their phone, watches as Hercules fidgets in his bed. “Yeah, okay Laf I’ll stay right here,” he says slowly, after a minute of looking partially like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Thanks,” Laf murmurs as they hang up.

Fuck. Fuck. It’s the only thing really running through Lafayette’s mind while they slowly, hesitantly go for their laptop. Fuck. Hercules doesn’t…. No, Lafayette is such a mess of a person, there is no way that he likes them. God, really, right now, Lafayette wouldn’t like themself. They drunk called him. What kind of dick who knows they have a motor mouth when drunk does that? Hah, that’s right, this one. Fuck.This isn’t what they ever wanted. They don’t want this. They don’t want to be rejected.

Lafayette’s hands are shaky as they carefully put the laptop on the bed and plug it in. So much for the steady hands of a pitcher. So much for the bright smile of Lafayette, starting pitcher of the Blue Jays who always knows what to do in all sorts of situations that involve interacting with people, for the Frenchman with charisma, the immigrant with a large heart and a place in baseball, a place in the limelight. The one who prospers under attention. Now all they want to do is hide under a rock.

They flip the screen open and catch their reflection in the blackness. They’re close to crying. Lafayette has no idea what the hell they’ll do if this screws up.

The power button is hit. 

Lafayette takes a deep breath. 

They can do this. They can do this.

The screen turns on.

They can do this. They can do this.

Lafayette logs into the computer, watches as the desktop loads. More than their hands are shaking now.

“Je peux le faire,” they whisper to themself, repeatedly. “Je peux le faire, je peux le faire.” They can do this. They can do this.

They click on the Skype icon and slowly click on Hercules’ name and the video chat option. As the call goes through, they lick their lips. Hercules’ ridiculous icon is flashes in their face. It’s a picture of him, zoomed in ridiculously close to his face, just barely getting from his eyebrows to the tip of his chin. The smile is supposed to be creepy, Lafayette feels, but it’s not. It’s adorable, and it sucks, and Lafayette hates seeing Hercules’ face and being reminded how much he likes him. And maybe he’ll like them back.

“Je peux le faire.” Their voice is bit more steadier now.

Hercules picks up, awkward smile on his face.

And there’s no time like the present. “Herc, about the night before.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Yo! Come one, come all, to my get together.

Hercules takes in a deep breath, pulling his blanket around him tighter. Okay, so they’re doing this. He can do this. This is Lafayette he’s talking to, he has got this totally under control. He just has to be honest about how he feels, something that, hopefully, won’t be too hard. Not when Lafayette is right in front of him; Lafayette, someone who’s smile might as well be the very sun to Hercules, who’s voice has the potential to brighten Hercules’ day in an instant.

Lafayette is so out of his league.

“What about it?” Hercules manages to get out. Immediately he regrets it, biting his tongue hard, winces when he bites just a little too hard.

Lafayette looks at Hercules for a moment, obviously conflicted about something. Their face is screwed just slightly, nose a little crinkled while their lips are turned downwards in the slightest way. Their eyes, however, are wide, taking in what’s in front of them, thinking. “I…. Hercules, you know what I’m talking about,” they say slowly, lowering their head to their lap, allowing loose hairs to fall down with it. “We need to talk about it. We can not just continue to avoid it.”

Hercules would love to just avoid it forever. Sure, he would never forget it in his life, but he can avoid things like a pro. Especially feelings. That’s a specialty of his. Avoiding strong feelings that have the potential to absolutely ruin him. But Lafayette doesn’t seem to think the same way. Why would they? That’d mean the world was being easy on him. Or maybe this is the world finally gifting him, giving him a chance at this. Like hell if Hercules knows. 

Hercules had never been taught what to say when a friend, who also happens to be the object of some pretty serious affections on his part, wants to discuss how they were masturbating in the middle of the goddamn night during a Skype call and ended up moaning his name. It’s nothing school ever touched on, and Hercules’ parents never decided that that was a lesson he needed to know. Well, guess what, he would really like to have had such a conversation under his belt to pull from because he has no idea what the hell he is supposed to say now.

Which, he supposes, could be just what he needs to say. No use trying to quickly come up with something, and it ending up being something wrong that ends this currently rather friendship that the two have going on right now.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right Laf, but I- I really don’t know what I’m supposed to be saying, man, that’s all,” Hercules admits with a sigh, looking to the side for a moment before going back to the screen. What he would to have his demon cat walk in right now to solve this whole issues with something. But that’s not going to happen.

Lafayette draws his attention back with a small, awkward laugh. They now have their bottom lip drawn into their mouth and Hercules swears he can almost see tears in their eyes. Which is not right. Why the hell do they have tears in their eyes? “Hey, Laf, are you okay?” Hercules asks gently.

Lafayette nods their head fast, released their lip to open their mouth, but they quickly close it again. Hercules doesn’t feel as bad seeing that he isn’t the only one this is affecting, but it hurts seeing Lafayette like this. More than it should, really, considering their human and they can’t be happy go lucky Lafayette all the time. 

“How much did you hear, Hercules?” Lafayette eventually asks, seeming to get a better hold of themself.

Hercules knows what Lafayette is asking about, know they’re asking about the moment and words that kept him up last night. Well, words and worry for Lafayette, and god bless the man for wanting to have this conversation when dealing with a hangover that has to be a bitch. Hercules won’t be a dick and draw this on any longer than necessary, then.

“A lot. Enough. I heard enough, I think,” Hercules says awkwardly. God, this isn’t what Hercules wants to be talking about so early in the morning. Or, ever, really. 

“So you heard me-”

“Say my name. Well, more, you moaned it, which, you know, was at the end and all. I heard that,” Hercules rushes out, stumbling over his words in the haste to just say it, get it over with.

“Right…” Lafayette doesn’t seem to know where to go with this any more than Hercules does, which is a mess. Something needs to be said or done.

Fuck, just be honest, Hercules. That’s the only he can do, and it’s either going to turn things more awkward, potentially ruining everything, or maybe it will go okay. Maybe things will turn out okay, good even, and this whole thing will blow over. And yeah, sure, it was only one day of odd tenseness, but it felt like longer for Hercules. He just wants to not screw everything up and keep Lafayette as a friend, at the very least.

“Lafayette, I like you. A- a lot?” Hercules clenches his hands tight in his lap, and thinks that he might be feeling tears forming now, too. Fuck, Lafayette is going to reject him and tell him it was all an accident, and now it’ll be awkward because Hercules confessed liking them, and they don’t like him back, and they’re going to grow distant and away from each other before they stop talking altogether and they’ll see each other the field and it’ll be real awkward and tense and Hercules won’t be able to handle seeing them up close like that, in real life and not through another screen. God, They don’t seem like the type to be homophobic, but Hercules doesn’t know, he’s never brought the topic up. What is Lafayette is disgusted by him, what if-

“Me too,” Lafayette murmurs, a small smile gracing their face.

“Huh?”

“Toi. You. I like you, too, Hercules. A lot. T’est adorable, et- you’re cute, dieu,” Lafayette says, and the small smile is now a wide grin, all teeth showing as their eyes light up with every passing second. “Hercules, your smile, it captivates me, and… have you ever seen yourself? Heard yourself? You are so very kind, and awkward, a bit of a dork. I don’t know how to _not_ like you, you idiot.”

Oh. Oh! Hercules’ eyes widen and he can’t help but smile a smile that matches Lafayette’s own large one. Lafayette likes him back. “Oh my god,” he whispers, unable to really get his voice working in the mix of shock and just joy rushing through him.

Lafayette _likes_ him back. Him. Hercules Mulligan. Lafayette is… Hercules doesn’t know how to describe them. They’re wonderful, expressive, fun, beyond attractive, charismatic, so many things. He can get so easily lost in their eyes, watching their lips move as they speak, listening to them speaking in French and the way the language effortlessly rolls off of their tongue. Despite the still very apparent accent, Hercules is pretty sure that they’re better versed in English than he even is, they’re smarter than they probably give themself credit for. Hercules wants to run his hand through their hair, to hold them and hug them and comfort them whenever they need.

And then Lafayette’s smile is gone, replaced by another worried frown. “Fuck, okay, look, Hercules, there’s something I need to tell you first,” they say, worry back in the voice.

“Yeah, go ahead Laf, I’m all ears,” Hercules tells them, still smiling a little. There really is nothing that they can say to take this moment away.

“Um… merde, je ne sais- I do not know how to say it, I suppose. I, uh…” Lafayette speaks slowly, unsurely, and Hercules wants to reach through the screen and put his hand on their shoulder and them it’s okay and it sucks because that’s something he can’t actually do.

“Hey, you can tell me anything Laf,” he says, giving a small thumbs up for hell of it. “You’re okay.”

“It’s just that… I’m non-binary?” Lafayette sounds like they’re asking a question, whether to Hercules or themself, he doesn’t know. They seem so unsure of themself, and fidgety where they sit. “I mean, I know I am. I’m non-binary, I just think that’s what it is called in English.”

While it’s not what Hercules was expecting them to say, it’s actually a lot better than what was going through his mind. He was a little worried they were going to say they were dying or something, and he could work with that, but he would be lying if he said he’s not relieved that this is what Lafayette wanted to tell him. Although he does feel kind of like a dick…. “Hey, that’s cool. I think that’s what you’re looking for, yeah. Uh… Oh god, so, what are your pronouns then?” Because, yeah, wow, with how much he was talking to Alex and John about them. Shit.

“What?” Lafayette seems a little thrown off by the question.

“Pronouns? You know, like-”

“No, no, I know what you mean,” Lafayette laughs, smiling again. “I suppose I wasn’t expecting you to ask that, I guess. God, I never expected to get this far.” They draw a pillow close to their chest, holding it tightly and resting their chin on top of it. “Uh, well, they and them, I suppose. Preferred, you know. Not many people really… know. Or ask, sorry, you caught me off guard is all.”

Hercules brings his hand to the back of his neck for a brief moment before bringing it back down. “Oh, sorry ‘about that,” he laughs awkwardly.

“Don’t ever be sorry about something like that, Herc,” Lafayette says.

They lapse into a comfortable silence, neither of the two really feeling the need to say anything. Well, Hercules doesn’t know about Lafayette, but he doesn’t really want to bother them. There is no way that their hangover is gone, so he’s content to sit in the silence if it lessens their pain in any small way.

“Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette.”

Hercules gives Lafayette an odd look when they break the silence. “What?”

“Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette. That’s my full name, I didn’t know if you know. Most people just know Gilbert as my first name, but I thought you should know,” Lafayette explains.

That is quite the name Lafayette has going for them. It fits their large personality, Hercules supposes. Definitely fits it. “Hm, I like it. It’s pretty. Marie-Joseph,” he muses, playing with it in his head. He likes it.

“Yes, well, I like you, Hercules Mulligan,” Lafayette chimes, and Hercules laughs.

“And I like you too, Marie-Joseph Paul… Whatever it is, Jesus Christ.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look I made it happy.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm uploading this from my phone. And the end part was done from my phone. So idk how good it really is, my dudes, but I tried.

While the pain in their head is still, well, a pain, an extreme pain that has them hesitant to eat anything lest they end up sick again, Lafayette can’t say they remember the last time they were this happy and content at the same time. There’s a flood of emotions, feelings, all incredibly good flowing through every part of them. It doesn’t block out the sharp pain in their head, or the scratchy burning feeling in their throat, but it’s still very noticeably there; the mix of emotional wellbeing and physical, well, not so well being, exist on completely separate plains that allow Lafayette to ride on a sort of high of pain and joy.

But, after more time lapses in silence, both Lafayette and Hercules are faced with the reality that they need to get dressed and ready for the day. “I really don’t wanna get up,” Lafayette groans, flopping onto their back. “My head is killing me. This is so unfair.”

“You’re the one who chose to drink,” Hercules reminds me with an amused smile.

“You’re the one who was being so damn _confusing_ yesterday, though,” Lafayette says with a pout, rolling onto their side. “You should do my job for me today. Just come in and sit on the bench for me. I’m sure you guys have someone else who can cover first.”

“You’re the one deciding it’s time to jack off at ass o’ clock in the morning,” Hercules grumbles, sending them a playful glare. “God, who the hell does that anyways? You know you’re in a video chat, but you decide to do it anyways?”

Lafayette throws a pillow at the camera with a giggle. “Oh please, you have had me emotionally compromised since the first time I saw you,” they say. “And maybe I wanted you to hear me. Ever thought about that?”

Hercules looks totally unimpressed with the last statement. “Uh huh, you wanted me to hear. You sure about that?”

“Okay, no, but that’s not the point. At least I’m not a nerd or anything, like you. You were the exact definition of flustered I think, like what the hell? Who the hell gets ‘flustered’?”

This time, it’s Hercules throwing a pillow at the screen. “You fucking moaned my name! It’s not my fault I fell in- for you the same way the way media did!” he defends, scooting so that his back rests against the backboard of his bed.

Lafayette hears the hesitation, and files it away for another time. Now is not the time to be thinking about that kind of thing, they think. Not when they can sit here and see how long they can keep Hercules in bed with them. Well, almost in bed with them. They’re both in bed right now when they should be not in bed. But hey, such is life. Such is the way of Lafayette, doing what they want to get what they want, even if it’s done completely on accident.

“Well I moaned your name because you look good,” Lafayette says with a grin. “Maybe you shoulda just slammed your face in with a door before seeing me. Maybe then I wouldn’t have been so hell bent on talking to you.”

“Get outta here you eggo,” Hercules grumbles, flipping Lafayette off.

Oh my god. Eggo? “Did you just call me an eggo? Literally what the fuck Hercules?” Lafayette laughs, trying to find something equally as ridiculous to call him. Nothing comes up. Nothing intelligent at least. Well, it’s not like eggo is really intelligent either, they suppose. “You’re such a cheese nipple.”

Hercules chokes out a laugh and tries to cover his mouth, but fails horribly. Soon, Lafayette joins him, and both of them are giggling uncontrollably and happily.

But it does need to end. No matter how much Lafayette wants to just sit here all day with Hercules, they do need to change for their game at noon. “I suppose I do need to get dressed in actual clothes, don’t I,” they say with a sigh, getting up to slowly crawling out of bed. “And I need to shower. I smell like vomit.”

“That’s what happens when you throw up, you num nut,” Hercules says. Unnecessarily, Lafayette might add.

“Yeah yeah, shut up,” Lafayette grumbles, pulling their shirt over their head while also trying (and failing) to kick off their sweats. “Do what Hercules does in the morning, I suppose. I will be back momentarily.” Maybe. They quickly finished getting undressed before making their way to the bathroom, where all their stuff is already stashed in the shower. 

When the water first hits Lafayette’s skin, a not-quite burning heat, it’s an immense relief, instantly starting to sooth some of the odd aches and pains lurking about their body, resting in their muscles and bones. It’s easy to lose themself while washing their hair, hands running through rhythmically, to not let a care in the world hit them, to relax into the heat.

But, like almost any other shower recently, it’s haunted by Hercules. His face, his smiles, his eyes, his mouth, his hands, the few shows of body that they’ve seen, some images their mind has created.

As Lafayette moves a hand from their hair and down their neck, their fingers are suddenly a little larger than their own, pressing a little rougher into their skin and scalp, and the hands match the size. They move the hand down, lower, running across their hip as the hand still in their hair takes a tight grip and pulls sharply, eliciting a sharp gasp from them, followed by a small moan. “Merde, Herc, s’il te plait, s’il te plait. Je veux plus,” Lafayette whispers, slipping their eyes closed.

WIth their eyes closed, Lafayette pictures Hercules in front of them, continuing to move their along along their hip. Slowly they move lower, keeping their other hand tangles in their hair, occasionally tugging gently as they sucked on their lower lip. “S’il te plait.” Lafayette finally runs their hand down their dick, just barely brushing their hand along it, teasing themself. They’re already half hard, and every image of Hercules they bring up, either from memory or imagination, continues to urge them on.

In their mind, Lafayette pictures Hercules in front of them, that it’s his hand tangled in their hair, that it’s his hand wrapped lightly around them, his hand that they’re sitting hard in. “Merde, oh my god,” they gasp lightly, backing themself up until their back hits the shower wall.

In the back if their mind, Lafayette wonders how Hercules would be in this situation. Would he be gentle with them, teasing, running kisses down their neck while lightly trailing a hand down their abdomen, lightly stroking them while cooing soft, gentle words to them? Or would he be a little rougher, running nails down the side of their arm, biting gently at their skin with a hand moving a little faster and rougher around their cock?

Hercules could take Lafayette apart, piece by piece, if he wanted. 

When they brush the tip of their dick, Lafayette’s breath stutters and they buck up into their hand. They drop their head back against the wall, closing ther hand tighter and moving it quicker. The hand in their hair drops to palm at the wall as they quicken the pace, continuing to imagine that the hand around them is larger than it really is, that Hercules is whispering in their ear sweet nothings, telling them to let go.

With a small whine that turns into a low moan of Hercules’ name, Lafayette cums, breath quick. They stay there for a few minutes, water washing away the evidence of what they did. They lazily move forward to turn the water off, and climbs out of the shower, mind still a little clouded in bliss.

It takes until Lafayette is just finishing pulling up their pants before everything catches up to them, and their face lights up in a bright blush. With slight shame, they leave the bathroom to grab a shirt from their suitcase. Maybe if they're lucky, Hercules will have hung up to get dressed himself.

Lafayette is never really allowed to be lucky anymore, it seems, because Hercules is still sitting there on the call when they come back, pulling a t-shirt over their head, wet curls immediately starting to soak the shoulders and back of their shirt. At the sight of him, they're face goes even redder. “I'm back,” they say lamely, unable to look up at the camera. Or Hercules. 

“Who’s back? All I see is a tomato,” Hercules teases, and Lafayette brings a pillow up to hide their face. “Hey, no wait, it's cute. You're cute, c’mon!”

When Lafayette peaks over the pillow, Hercules looks embarrassed, eyes shifting awkwardly to the side. Cutie. “Hm, I can't imagine anything cuter than you right now,” they tell him, pushing the pillow under their chin. “Not even myself.”

“Stop it, you eggo,” Hercules whines, covering his face with his hands. “Idiot, nerd, please.”

“Weakling," Lafayette mutters, rolling their eyes. And hey, why not be brutally honest to keep him looking that flustered. “You act like I didn't just jerk off to the thought of you in the shower. Go get dressed.”

Hercules goes bright, eyes wide as he pulls a blanket over his head. "Oh my god," he squeaks, actually _squeaks_ , before ungratefully tumbling out of the bed. 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive my absence with a chapter that's twice as long as normal? Please? <3

The game is, well, a game. Lafayette pays little attention to it, following everyone’s movements, but not quite registering it all. They hear the plays, see the plays, cheer when someone on their team makes it home safe, is happy when a Twin is striked out, when innings shift to put the Jays at the bad, but they in the end, that can’t tell a single story about the game for the life of them. Hercules clouds their thoughts, their mind, and Lafayette can’t say they mind it. No, they’re ecstatic because the fact that they can even do such a thing without a deep longing for someone they can’t have because Hercules likes them. And it’s great. 

As soon as they can leave, Lafayette is heading back to their room to prepare to watch Hercules’ game that plays later. They are intent to watch it all, which, well, isn’t really any different from any other game that he’s played since Lafayette had first met him and seen that damn smile of his. They can’t stay away. Even if this morning hadn’t worked out for them, Lafayette would have still watched Hercules’ game today. Just to see how he did. They can respect someone not liking them back, being weirded out by their friend harboring more than friend feelings for them, so they wouldn’t push, but one last game wouldn’t hurt. But Lafayette doesn’t need to worry about that, so no need to think about it.

God, Lafayette is nothing short of soaring right now. Nothing, and they mean nothing, can get them down from this sort of high they’re riding on while they walk down the few blocks to their apartment. They hum a small tune, eyes bright as they look at the tall buildings towering above them. It takes only a few minutes to reach the hotel lobby, and with a quick, small smile to the worker at the front desk, they pass by to the elevator.

The hotel is nothing special, a gentle green painting the walls and a solid grey carpet in the hallways, but it’s still nice. It’s clean and simple. The elevator matches with slightly scratched metal walls and wood floors, and, thankfully, no music to bug the crap out of Lafayette as they take it up. With a small ding, the doors open, and Lafayette exists, a bright smile still gracing their lips. They’re pretty sure the same sight was there throughout the game, but can they find themself giving a damn? No.

There’s about an hour and a half until Hercules’ game starts, if Lafayette’s times are correct. An hour and a half for them to bug the everloving shit out of the man, is how they look at it.

**To: Herc :0 >> _Omg so good luck <3_**

Is that even the right thing to say? Lafayette really doesn’t know. They’ve never really dated another baseball player before to know the proper things to text before a game, especially not one on another team. But, it’s not like they’re technically in the same league. They teams play every once in awhile, but they aren’t really competing for any titles. Well, even if they were, this is personal life and they’re allowed to support their boyfriend, so yeah, a good luck is totally called for. The absolute right thing to do.

**From: Herc :0 >> _I know u didn’t play but u guys won yeah :)_**  
**From: Herc :0 >> _And so I bet I can win too we got this_**  
**To: Herc :0 >> _Hmmm jst kick the orioles’ asses for me pretty please. :((( They smacked us into the ground last series we played them. Only won one of the four games ; (_**  
**From: Herc :0 >> _I’ll make sure they don’t win <3333_**  
**To: Herc :0 >> _< 333333333_**

The hearts. Lafayette smiles brightly down at their phone, tongue sticking out of their mouth. A bright swell of happiness sits high in their chest, and they don’t really know how to deal with it, but it stays. They’re not sure they’d be able to get rid of it if they wanted to or not.

**To: Herc :0 >> _U gtting ready for the game already?_**  
**From: Herc :0 >> _Yeaaah kinda i shld be soon_**  
**To: Herc :0 >> _Mkay ill be watchin so do good and dont get hurt or anything_**  
**From: Herc :0 >> _Yeeepppp I won’t do anything bad promise_**

Lafayette types out two words. Two very strong words. They don’t hit send, instead deleting them, watching the “love you” disappear quickly under their fingers. Not now. Not… With a small sigh, Lafayette puts their phone down to their side and decides to just not respond. No need to bother Hercules any further. No need to ruin what just started.

Lafayette’s laptop is already sitting on their bed from the morning, never having put it away. They have nothing better to do, not wanting to disturb Hercules right now, even though they did normally talk to each other up to the very last moment when possible. Not like anything should have changed on that front, really, but Lafayette doesn’t want to test it. Not yet. So, the internet is obviously the perfect place to be.

Lafayette has social media. They have a Twitter, a Facebook account (they don’t ever really touch), an Instagram, and Snapchat. They don’t use them too often, but they do have them, and it’s times like these that they’re most inclined to use them. No need to rally check Twitter, so first stop is Facebook. As soon as they log in, it’s to three new requests. Hercules Mulligan, John Laurens, and Alexander Hamilton, all looking to be their friend. Which, works. It’s not like they have anything else to do on the site, so they accept, and, on the assumption that Alexander and John are Hercules’ friend, they decide to look a little at their profiles.

Alexander Hamilton - that’s too long of a name in Lafayette’s opinion, which they find a little amusement in considering their ridiculously long name - they discover, works for fucking Buzzfeed, and Lafayette really doesn’t know what to think about that. That wasn’t what they imagined him as when talking to him earlier. Well, they hadn’t really imagined him as anything specific, but definitely not a blogger for Buzzfeed. But, it almost seems fitting, they think after seeing the various photos of him and what seems to be a very posh looking…. Business man? Politician? Lawyer? Lafayette can’t tell too well, but they seem happy together, so who are they to pry. All they know is that the dude has money.

John Laurens, on the other hand, owns a pet store. Half of their account is pictures with him and pets, ranging from kittens, puppies, a god awful amount of turtles, birds, and goldfish. Lafayette never considered taking a selfie with a goldfish, but this man here did it. The man has a large smile on him, all teeth and glittering eyes. Lafayette also wants to punch him smack in the face when they come across photos and videos of him dabbing. That’s the point where Lafayette scrunches their nose and closes Facebook. 

Fun game of learning some stuff about Hercules’ friends, but it did very little to pass the time. Still an hour to go until the game, and what really sounds nice to Lafayette right now is a nap. Alarms are made for a reason. They close their laptop, pull out their phone, set a timer for forty-five minutes, and happily lay their head down to sleep.

 

Fifteen minutes. They log onto their account to wait for Hercules’ game to stare. Ten minutes, and Lafayette is obsessively watching the time. Five minutes. A large smiles stretches across their face as they fidget excitedly, eyes wide with anticipation. Five minutes. Five minutes from the game. Five minutes. 

As soon as the game officially starts, the Phillies up to bat first, Lafayette’s eyes are glued to their laptop screen, watching. Hercules is third up to bat, following one out and a player on first, and Lafayette’s breath catches in their throat as he makes it to the plate and assumes stance. The first throw is a ball, then a strike, and another ball. Every movement Lafayette watches intently, willing Hercules to hit it. 

The fourth pitch comes at Hercules. In a split second, he’s running, first to first, then to second with a line drive down the left-field line. As they watch him run, Lafayette has a goofy grin spread across their face, pulling the pillow from behind them to their chest. He runs fast enough, and barely makes it to second in time. But he does. Both he and the man on third already look ready to run again. Good.

That’s Lafayette’s favourite part of playing national. While batting isn’t their favourite thing to do in itself, they’re good enough at it, and it’s always a thrill to run. It’s always against a clock. If the don’t run fast enough, they won’t make it to the next base, can’t make it home. You don’t dare to think of much more than running, than making your legs go as fast as possible in a straight line. To just go. Don’t look back, don’t look to the crowd. Drown out the noise, drown it all out. Nothing in sight but the base. Unless Hercules is standing on first base, in which Lafayette did find themself looking more at the man on base than the base itself. But when you’re running for the base, you’re not looking for the ball.

The next hit is a homer, and if Hercules’ isn’t running as fast as before, Lafayette doesn’t doubt anybody notices. Or cares. A great way to start a game is 3-0 in the first inning.

 

The moment the game ends at 5-2, Lafayette has their phone in their hand. 

**To: Herc :0 >> _!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_**  
**To: Herc :0 >> _That was great!! You did great!! :D_**  
**From: Herc :0 >> _Eww yeah and I need to shower off so hang on a second. I’m all gross. I smell gross_**

Ew, yeah, Lafayette knows that feeling a little too well. And so they wait. They don’t mind waiting and thinking about Hercules. In the shower. Which, nevermind, is not what they want to be thinking about. They totally do not want to be thinking about the way the water would run down his back and arms and how his hair would feel wet and how nice it’d feel to kiss him while both of their lips are wet and what he thinks about while showering. No need to go there.

Instead of thinking about _that_ , Lafayette pulls up pictures of puppies on the internet to try and calm themself down. And, granted, it does work. A little too well. Lafayette loses track of time a little bit while scrolling down pages of puppies with their fluff and tongues and ears and barks and when they hear their phone going off for a call, they are caught off guard, jumping a little as they look at who is interrupting them.

And who else would it have been but Hercules. They immediately answer, giving a small noise to announce that they are indeed listening (they aren’t) as their eyes wander back to the screen in front of them.

“Hey, not to sound clingy or anything, but I sent you like, twenty messages, the last one a half hour ago, and you didn’t respond. Was just.. Wondering if you’re okay,” Hercules says awkwardly, and Lafayette half catches it, half doesn’t. God Hercules has a nice voice to be mixed with looking at the small baby husky running across the grass. Just wonderful. “And… I didn’t know you turned into a ceiling?”

“Ceilings are the next biggest thing,” Lafayette says blankly, eyes still glued to the screen as they scroll, scroll. Scroll down.

“Are you busy, Laf?” Hercules sounds like a mix of confusion and worry, and it’s the worry that finally draws them away from the screen. Hercules should not need to worry about them when nothing is even wrong.

Lafayette grabs their phone and brings it up to their face, sticking their tongue out far at Hercules. “Hm, well, you’re totally interrupting puppy time, but I _suppose_ you can be a suitable replacement for that. Too bad you aren’t like a fluffy, cute sandwich that I wanna squish and pinch,” they sigh dramatically. “No no, instead, you are simply cute. But you’re also very good looking. Tres beau. It makes up for it, I think. The lack of… squishiness.”

Hercules gives Lafayette an odd look, eyebrow raised with a half smile on him. “Puppies?”

Yes. Puppies. Excuse Hercules. “Oui! Of course! Puppies! Vois!” Lafayette changed the camera so that it’s not front facing and shows Hercules their computer screen, where there is still a range of puppies on it. Some are videos playing without sound, some gifs, and some photos. But all puppies. “Are they not just adorable and huggable? I want to hug one! And you. I want to hug you more than any puppy, but still! Vois!”

Hercules laughs a little, and it sounds a bit like a goddamn giggle, and Lafayette thinks they feel their heart just melt at that. Oh god, they’re a little in too deep. If this thing crashes and burns, they don’t know what they’ll do. But, they think, let’s not worry about that right now, and instead worry about how Hercules’ face is scrunched up in joy at the look of puppies and Lafayette can’t help but to smile so largely at that.

“Enough with the puppies, I wanna see your face now,” Hercules whines after a moment, and Lafayette obliges, switching the camera back over. “See, much more beautiful than any puppy could be, Too Many Names Lafayette.”

Lafayette blushes at that, and sends a playful glare at Hercules. “Hmph, t’es plus beau que moi,” they grumble with a small huff.

“Oh please, I wish I was on your level, babe, but if that’s what you wanna think, that’s what you wanna think,” Hercules says, rolling his eyes.

Not true. At all. Hercules is so beautiful and handsome and just radiates how kind he is. He has such a big smile and the way he crinkles his eyes when happy is just great, really, and Lafayette doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do about it at all. It’s too much. He’s too much for them, too good and nice.

“I l-” Lafayette quickly cuts themself off in a quick panic. “I think that you look adorable no matter what, so hah.”

“Yes, well I always think about how nice it’d be to be able to cuddle you because you’re so cute that I can’t get that thought off of my mind.”

Lafayette can beat that. It’d require putting an end to this sickeningly sweet situation, but they can win this. They always win thank you very much. “I like to think about how it’d be to blow you. Guess we’re on different thought trails on that one…” Which is true. Partly. Lafayette _does_ think about blowing Hercules more than they probably should, but they do also think about cuddling him. A lot. Like, a lot a lot. More than necessary a lot. As in they’re thinking about it right now because he mentioned it.

Hercules chokes on his breath as his eyes grow wide, and Lafayette swears they can feel his face heat up from here. “Oh my god, you’re horrible,” Hercules whispers, shaking his head. “Absolutely horrible. We had a moment going, and you, my dear, ruined it. Oh my god.”

“Eh, what can I say? We French are awfully romantic,” Lafayette purrs. As the sentence ends, they are caught off guard as a large yawn builds up. They quickly move their hand to cover their mouth, and manage it just in time before they’re opening their mouth and a long yawn comes out. 

“Why don’t we get to sleep,” Hercules suggests.

Lafayette shakes their head in protest, clenching their eyes tight to try and will away the sudden feeling of tired. “No, I’m not tired, I’m good.” And as if just to prove them wrong, they yawn again.

“Yes you are, you eggo,” Hercules says, shaking his head a little. "C’mon. I’m going to get changed into something to sleep in. I suggest you do too.”

With a pout, Lafayette watches as Hercules leaves the screen. He’s right, though, and so they soon drag themself away from their bed. And, just for the hell of it, they pull a pair of looser grey sweats from their bag to change into, and throws the dirty shirt and pants off to the side of the bag, uncaring of how they floor is probably getting the, even dirtier than before. They ignore the slight chill that comes with having no shirt on. Hercules likes to sleep without a shirt on every now and then, so they’ll do it too.

Walking back over to the bed, Lafayette pulls the tie out of their hair and throws it onto the bedside table before settling back into bed. And really, they’re using their phone again? Really, no need to since they already have their laptop out.

As soon as Hercules comes back into the frame, Lafayette is talking. “I’m going to hang up quickly t and call back on my laptop, be right back in a like, a few seconds, not even a minute,” they shoot off, before pressing the red end call button. True to their word, it takes less than a minute for them to pull up Skype on their laptop and to call Hercules again. He answers on the first ring.

“Try not to create any more awkward situations this time,” Hercules jokes while Lafayette reaches across the bed to plug in their phone and laptop.

“No promises,” Lafayette responds, pulling back to waggle their eyebrows at Hercules. “I am not wearing a shirt. Anything could happen.”

“Yes, anything. Like sleeping.”

“Oh you’re no fun.” Even as Lafayette says this, they’re turning off the light. Happily, they settle onto their side and look up at Hercules, who also now sits in a dark room. Both of them are illuminated only by the light from their laptops, and Lafayette smiles up at him. Hercules smiles back.

With the same smile of their faces, they drift to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I think the beginning is a bit boring, but then it got cute ok. It gOT CUTE.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to give... an almost calm before the storm because I am working up to making Shit^tm happen. Like, shit hits the fan, sort of stuff. Just enjoy it while you can, like, here's you're warning.

“Oui, je vais à la maison!” Lafayette explains excitedly, shoving clothes into their suitcase messily. It’s not like any of them are clean anyways, so, in their opinion at least, there isn’t any reason to be folding them anyways. Four days in Minneapolis gone by, and one of those days brought Lafayette Hercules Mulligan as a _boyfriend_. Yet, Lafayette is still ready to leave.

“What time’s your flight?” Hercules asks, the voice small from where Lafayette’s laptops sits on their bed across the room.

“Four hours! I’ll be getting in late, but by the time I land, your game should be over,” Lafayette says, zipping up the suitcase and dragging it over to their bed. “Well, that is if you guys don’t take sixteen innings to finish the game.”

When they turn around to look at Hercules, he’s got a grimace on his face and is holding a half eaten banana. “God, don’t jinx it, please,” he groans, running a hand down his face. “I don’t even want to think about that kind of shit right now. It was a good morning,”

“Oh, don’t be such a baby,” Lafayette says, rolling their eyes.

“Oh please, you’re a pitcher, you don’t have to play all game. You _can’t_ play all game. Every single of those sixteen innings would be me at the bat and me on first..”

“Mhm, sure, sweetie,” Lafayette teases. “Well, anyways, I need to pack this up and head up to the airport now.”

“Alright, be safe, Laf,” Hercules tells them, smiling up at the camera with that damn big smile and adoration in his eyes. Lafayette can feel themself going momentarily lightheaded from that stupid, stupid thing. Unfair. Hercules’ smile is unfair. So is his voice, and attitude, and eyes, and just everything and Lafayette loves him. Not fair.

“I will, mon coeur, play well,” they return, giving a smile of their own before hanging up.

Lafayette quickly powers off their laptop before putting it into the bag sitting next to it on the bed. Afterwards, they unplug their phone and put the charger and a book into a different pocket on the case. Finally, phone in pocket, case on shoulder, and suitcase being towed behind, they leave the room one last time, one key in their pocket and one left on the nightstand. Time to go home, even if home isn’t all that big.

 

.It’s past midnight when Lafayette’s plane lands. Damn timezones. As they’re in a taxi to their apartment, they can practically feel the time ticking by, feeling as it slowly approaching one in the morning. And while it’s only approaching midnight for Hercules, Lafayette wonders if it’s too late to text the man. Would he be sleeping right now?

Damn it, it’s worth a try because Lafayette needs to let off some steam. Extreme steam because that entire flight was absolute bullshit. Aka the kid behind their sit decided it was its duty to continuously kick their seat, and its parent apparently gave absolutely no fucks about it. Now, Lafayette is normally a very tolerable person, but oh god, that was just not happening.

**To: Herc :0 >> _heyyyy r u awake??_**   
**To: Herc :0 >> _if not that’s totally cool_**   
**To: Herc :0 >> _it’s really late fuck sorry_**

And why would he even be awake? The man actually did something today, played. Wasn’t flying home. Lafayette is about to put their phone away in their pocket to look out the window and watch the city lights go by when their phone buzzes.

**From: Herc :0 >> _Yeah it’s not THAT late dude :p_**   
**From: Herc :0 >> _What’s up?_**

It’s somewhat comforting how Hercules also doesn’t seem to understand sending only a single message. It really is. Generally Lafayette is worried about annoying the hell out of people with their tendency to just… well, use the send key instead of period, and even commas sometimes. Or, even worse, the space button. Screw being a double texter, they might as well be a decatexter. 

**To: Herc :0 >> _oml thank god  
 **To: Herc :0 >> _sweet jesus above ur here oh god_**_**   
**To: Herc :0 >> _ok look im in a taxi rn and when im in my apartment we should totally vid chat_**   
**To: Herc :0 >> _BECAUSE I NEED TO TELL YOU SOMETHING THAT I CAN’T PROPERLY GET ACROSS IN TEXT_**   
**To: Herc :0 >> _fuck that flight man_**   
**From: Herc :0 >> _Pff alright dude <3_**

Fuck Hercules and those stupid hearts. He needs to stop using them before they kill Lafayette. Like, actual death. One day, they won’t wake up because of these stupid hearts or Hercules in general because they’re so goddamn in love with this man it isn’t even funny anymore. They didn’t know it was possible to love someone like this until Hercules. It’s confusing. Infatuation. Crushing. It feels more like Lafayette is a bloody middle schooler than anything right now.

**To: Herc :0 >> _< 33 thank u so much i have like five more minutes of a drive and then ill be home_**   
**From: Herc :0 >> _q_q yoo home im back home tomorrow_**   
**From: Herc :0 >> _Jst call me when ur home ill be awake_**   
**To: Herc :0 >> _< 33 thnx_**

Lafayette puts their phone down in their lap, but doesn’t put it away like they were originally intending to before. With a content smile, they stare out at the increasingly familiar area pass by them. When the cab pulls up in front of their apartment, there’s a swell of… Lafayette doesn’t really know what it is, but it’s what always comes when they get home. It’s a good feeling.

With smiles and a few thank yous, Lafayette pays the driver, making sure to give a generous tip. That’s one of the perks of being wealthy, they think as they grab their suitcase from the trunk and make their way to the front door. There’s no issue with giving workers of any sort a little (a lot, at times, they’ve been known to put down four 50s) bit of a bonus on what the normal tip would end up as. Pet peeve number one of Lafayette is seeing absolutely loaded people pull out their calculators in restaurants to calculate how much money to give their server. Not like adding a few bucks would hurt the damn people. Lafayette sure as hell isn’t missing any of the money.

The suitcase doesn’t make it beyond a few feet away from the doorway, immediately being abandoned on the floor as Lafayette makes a beeline for their kitchen for a cup of water. They carry it with them into their bedroom, setting it down on the small bedside table so that they can carelessly flop the bag across their shoulder onto the bed itself.

With a small grimace, Lafayette looks around at all the clothes strewn across the floor. Oops. That can be taken care of tomorrow, and not right now. Maybe not even tomorrow. Whenever. Sometime before they leave again, probably.

It’ll get done eventually.

While Lafayette pulls their laptop out of their case right away, they walk away from it as soon as they turn it on to give it time to load, and so that they have time to get changed into something else. And, that’s probably _best_ part of being home. They aren’t restricted on what they can wear. They don’t feel like wearing sweatpants, so they don’t have to wear them. Hell, if they really wanted to, they could sleep naked without feeling weird about sleeping naked in a hotel bed where they don’t know where the hell the sheets had been. Not that Lafayette particularly wants to do such a thing. No need to terrify Hercules by calling him naked. Instead, they pull out a pair of slightly too large basketball shorts and a tank top. 

The laptop automatically connects to the wifi when Lafayette logs in, which leaves them with one less step to perform. Not that it’s a long step, but it is still a step. Immediately, Skype is opened, and the the cursor is moved over Hercules’ lovely Shrek image to open their mostly empty conversation, void of anything but calls. And, when Lafayette pushes the video camera in the top bar, one more is added to join all the others.

It takes a minute for Hercules to answer, but like he said before, he does answer and looks awake. “Heey,” he says almost awkwardly, waving a hand in front of him in greeting.

Lafayette wastes no time in going in on complaining. Now, in their mind, they had a huge rant and rave to give to Hercules, one that could go on and on, but they are feeling the late hour, and the initial _rage_ from coming right off the plane is gone, and it’s a little dulled down, they’ll admit.

“This little dweeby like, I don’t even know, ten year old? Probably younger if we’re being realistic, but I’m saying that brat was ten. So, this little shit, Hercules, this little shit, I wanted to turn around and slap him. I’m not a violent person, Hercules, I really am not, you probably have gathered this so far, but this kid, oh my god. I wasn’t going to stress eat this one away. No, man, this flight, is starts of normal, good, very good, I’m content, happy to go home, I know I’m going home so I can face the few hours of the flight. Right? You got this start of my amazing story going in your head? Posh ass Delta airplane heading from Minneapolis/St, Paul airport off to Toronto, the lingering effects of a game still on me.

“So, I have some music playing at take off, but and about ten, twenty minutes into the damn flight - when everybody is putting down the little trays so do whatever on, a surprise amount of people were sleeping and I really should have just followed suit, but no, I wasn’t about to - this kid, just starts kicking my seat. And it’s not an accident, either. No, this was hard kicking with a purpose, all in the same spot in these quick little hits. I tolerate it for maybe five minutes, you know, giving time for a parent to stop this kid. Not that I can do much anyways, but I wait. I wait until those seatbelt lights are turned off, and that’s when I can’t handle this shit anymore.

“This is probably the only time I was happy to be sitting in the aisle seat, alright. I hate aisle seat, and, well, if I wasn’t sitting in the aisle seat that little kid wouldn’t have been behind me, but I’m in the aisle seat, I can effortlessly move out of it to get to the people behind me. I kindly, and I swear, it is done kindly, I’m a pretty nice person, I can control my temper very well and know how to be nice, ask this kid’s parents if they can maybe tell their kid to stop kicking my seat. Instead of, you know, doing the proper, polite thing, they look at their kid, at me, and continue on reading whatever books their reading, not doing a thing. I sit back down, maybe think that look means something, except as soon as I sit down, patter fucking patter, kid is kicking me again before I can even buckle my seatbelt. So, I get up again, and maybe my tone isn’t as nice this time, I don’t know, probably wasn’t, I ask her again, to tell her kid to _stop kicking my seat_. This is a long ass flight, I don’t need this kid to be kicking my seat. Now, repeat this, five or six times. That’s when I just gave up. Didn’t hear a single word come out of anybody but my own mouth.

“You’d maybe think that a kid would get tired on as long of a flight as that was, but no. The only time I wasn’t being kicked was when the kid went to the bathroom, and when the flight attendants were near. This little shit. The worst flight experience I’ve ever had. I do not recommend.”

Hercules stays silent for a second to make sure Lafayette is done before bursting into laughter.

“It’s not funny!” Lafayette whines, eyes wide. 

Hercules makes an effort to stop laughing, nodding his head, but his body is still shaking a little when he finally stops enough to speak. “Okay, you’re right, you’re right, that sounds extremely frustrating, and I would have hated it,” he says, before a little burst of giggles comes out again, just momentarily. “But, oh my god, sorry, that’s not what I was expecting from the texts is all, dude.”

Lafayette crosses their arms and huffs. “Sorry I couldn’t bring you stories with horses and princes and dragons.”

“Hm, not much of a loss unless it’s about a galient prince rescuing another prince from a dragon with their power of great hair and absolutely drop dead good looks,” Hercules says, wagging his eyebrows.

Ew. “Never do that again with your eyebrows,” Lafayette says, trying to hold back small laughter, a pained looking grin on their face in the attempt.

“Nah, because it gets you lookin’ like that, and it’s cute.”

“You know what? Casse-toi, I should just hang up now and let you not see me sleeping in my glorious bed,” Lafayette says, pushing in a theatrical level of fake anger into them, sounding more like a stuck up, pompous prick in the effort that has Hercules rolling his eyes. 

 

“Non, you’re right, I can’t even lie about that. I’d have you in my bed now if I could,” they say with a wistful sigh. “How beautiful of a sight would that be? Very, I can say. Very much. Even if I’m not even horny, just to cuddle. I like cuddling, you know.”

“Mm, well isn’t that an issue because I too like cuddling, and this seems to be a very popular topic of ours. Cuddling,” Hercules says, tilting his head to the camera.

“Yes… it is. And you know what else is?”

“What?”

“Ah, sleep. I’m tired. Too much flying and frustration. It’s tiring,” Lafayette explains in a way a child might, nodding their head as if explaining something very few people know, like they’re letting Hercules in on a big secret, like how Mr. Teddy Bear doesn’t really like tea time, but does it so that Mrs. Unicorn will like him.

“Alright you big pile of Laffy Taffy, than get some sleep,” Hercules says. “Wanna be well rested for your big day off tomorrow.”

“Mhm. Night Hercules.”

“Night Lafayette.”

And, when all is silent and Lafayette has throws a slipper at their light switch to effectively turn it off, they burrow deep into their pillow. “Je t’aime,” they whisper, eyes clenched tight. “I love you, Hercules Mulligan.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg im!!! not dead!!!!!!!

Lafayette is practically vibrating with excitement. Like, total excitement. As in, it’s been a month since Hercules and they had started whatever relationship they have, and Lafayette hasn’t managed to ultimately fuck it up. And now, much to Lafayette’s pleasure and happiness and absolute jumble of other good emotions, they have a game down in Philadelphia. 

Lafayette gets to see Hercules again. Face to face. 

And, oh their toes are curling in excitement and anticipation. Face to face physical contact and being able to touch Hercules and not just look at him from a computer screen. They can _hug _him. Lafayette can actually hug Hercules and kiss him when they want to and show affection physically instead of just verbally and wow. Wow. Lafayette is simply overcome with extreme excitement.__

__And also the thought that they really need to pack something nice. Maybe? Yeah, good clothes, better than normal, at least, are a necessity. Things that look really good on them. Fuck if Lafayette knows. The last time they felt this way about anyone was… what, high school? Obviously ended at some point. Not in a crash and burn sort of way, but it did hurt to slowly drift away from the person they would walk miles for._ _

__No going overboard, Lafayette thinks. No need to weird Hercules out. Or even themself. Not even they can handle going out to dressed up anymore. Normal clothes are maybe the best way to go._ _

__“Merde, j’ai besoin penser au sujet d’Hercules,” they groan, standing alone in the middle of their (still slightly messy) room. Two days worth of dirty clothes rest on the floor, not that they really care, and it is suddenly really hard to think in here. Closing their eyes for a second, to gather themself, Lafayette takes in a deep breath. In. Out. They open their eyes slowly and leave their room._ _

__Think. Lafayette needs to think. And they know just where to go._ _

__They look down quick at their clothes to examine what they’re wearing. Loose jeans, grey and blue running shoes, and, as bad as it is, a cheap Jays jersey they got off of eBay. Their jersey, to be exact, with Lafayette shining bright above the number 16 on the back. Eh, put on some flashy sunglasses and nobody will notice them. As Lafayette goes for their glasses from the counter, they’re faced with a small decision. Drive themself or take the bus._ _

__Normally, Lafayette would take the bus, but driving might help, they think. It’s calming for them, in a way, being control of the vehicle. Control of their life for that small amount of time they’re behind the wheel. It helps. So they snatch the keys in one hand, glasses in another, and heads for the door, clumsily putting the glasses on over their eyes._ _

__

__The ROM sits ahead of Lafayette, in all its glory. The exterior never ceases to blow them away. While it’s not built like a palace, it is still grand in its own way. Beautiful, as it seems to just pop out of the ground, cutting through another building. Like an odd mineral, they think. A very odd, large mineral. And it looks nice, in all reality. Despite the sharp edges, it’s welcoming. It promises an almost completely different world to be lying inside._ _

__As they walk through the front doors, Lafayette can’t help but feel the empty spot next to them. They don’t normally come here alone, whether the person they take with them is a friend or another attempt of theirs to find a relationship. They should have texted somebody to come with them. Found someone, anyone, to come with them. But, as it seems, there is a stroke of luck for Lafayette._ _

__Their eyes fly across the front entrance, and instantly meet with Maria Lewis. She’s beyond a gorgeous girl, really. Lafayette was ready to snatch her up the moment he saw her, until she completely rejected his advances. Two days later, she flaunted her girlfriend off to Lafayette. It was only fitting that the other girl, Elizabeth, if Lafayette remembers correctly, was just as beautiful as Maria, with long, dark brown hair and chocolate brown eyes to match Maria’s own. A stunning couple. Lafayette thinks, in the end, that they ended up falling more in love with the two girls and their happiness than they ever did with Maria’s looks._ _

__“Look who came by here alone,” Maria teases, straightening her before slouching stance. “Did a girl dump ya? A guy? Your small little heart been broken?”_ _

__“Not broken, I’m afraid,” Lafayette says wistfully, letting out a small sigh to add to the overly dramatic tone they used. “Instead, stolen.”_ _

__“Thought you gave up on the romantic shit.” So did Lafayette._ _

__“Oh, but I was! And then I met _him_ and all of a sudden I’m running circles, quite literally, to try and impress a goddamn thief,” Lafayette mumbles, leaning forward on the desk to get a little closer to Maria, allowing them to talk in a more hushed tone. No need for people to be overhearing the private conversations of theirs._ _

__“So, who’s the lucky guy to have stolen the heart of the heartthrob of the Toronto Blue Jays?” Maria asks with a smile, also leaning in closer to them. “You don’t just fall for any guy off the side of the road. You have the highest standards - hence why you crushed hard on me.”_ _

__Yeah, Hercules was off the side of the baseball field._ _

__“Only the sweetest man to ever exist, I fear. If I ever tried to press charges against his crime against me, he’d be considered not guilty at the end of the trial because he’d have already taken all the hearts of everybody else. He’d smile that bright smile of his, crinkle those damn eyes with it, and they’d all be so absorbed that they wouldn’t even notice that he’s repeating the crime he did to me onto them. And then it’d be too late.”_ _

__“Holy shit, you’ve gone insane,” is all Maria says, eyes wide._ _

__“No no,” Lafayette corrects her, “I’ve simply fallen in love.”_ _

__“Then I ask again. With who?”_ _

__With a star. “His name is Hercules Mulligan, and-”_ _

__“Oh my god, you’re still talking to that baseball player!” Maria exclaims with a loud whisper, eyes wide as she interrupts Lafayette shamelessly. “Oh my god this is the best thing in the world.” Maria lets out a small shocked laugh, backing up just a little as she grins widely at Lafayette. “Oo, imagine the headlines if this got out, how scandalized the media be. Oh my god, this is great.”_ _

__Lafayette groans, dropping their head. “You can’t tell anybody, please,” they tell her quickly, a small headache starting to form behind his eyes._ _

__“I’m not stupid,” Maria says rolling her eyes. “I know when to keep my mouth shut.”_ _

__“Oh thank god,” Lafayette sighs in relief, looking up to once again meet Maria’s eyes. “You’re great, Maria Lewis. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”_ _

__“Well, seeing as you go months upon months without seeing me, I looks like you do pretty well without me. But that’s for another time.”_ _

__“Hm?” Lafayette draws away from the desk to look at Maria as she quickly changes the subject and tone._ _

__“I am at work right now, on the clock, so I can’t be doing a lot of chit chat with you. What’d you come in here for? Can’t imagine it was just for my sorry ass.”_ _

__“Oh, right!” Lafayette quickly takes out their wallet from their back pocket, opening it as they speak. “I did want in, today, if you could.”_ _

__“See, now that I can help with,” Maria says, taking the twenty dollar bill Lafayette is holding out for her. “That’s my job, and I’m real damn good at it.”_ _

__“You’re simply the best, Maria,” Lafayette says with a gentle smile. “You deserve more credit for who you are as a great person.”_ _

__“Well thank you, Mr. Lafayette. You’re going to want to go down the hallway to the left to start on the museum. Enjoy your visit!”_ _

__Lafayette heads off with a hurried pace, knowing exactly where they want to go. Bat caves and dinosaurs are on the very top of the list._ _

__

__Lafayette doesn’t pick any sort of better fashion sense up at the ROM, but they do have the realization that they shouldn’t try overly hard on things like dressing while down south. Not for Hercules, who has seen them in nothing but boxers before. It’d be easier for them all if they don’t suddenly get a new wardrobe full of clothes Hercules has never seen. He really doesn’t seem like the type of guy to be judging based off of something and simplistic as that. Wearing clothes they don’t normally couldn’t get the wrong impression across._ _

__So it’s decided, and Lafayette flies out tomorrow, expecting to arrive at about one in the afternoon. Hercules said he’d be waiting. Lafayette can’t wait, can’t contain such excitement._ _


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tfw u dont update for a real long time rip
> 
> also sorry for poor quality. all my hopes and dreams are being crushed by this thing called the school system yall should tots help me and also kill me please and thanks <3 (i didnt proofread this at all rip guhrwitife)

Hercules leaves at noon for the airport. The flight is still scheduled to arrive on time, which means five past one. He’s happy. And Excited. And an absolute love struck fool who’s probably going to trip over his words horribly when he sees Lafayette. He knows he will, but he doesn’t care because, man, he’s going to see Lafayette again! 

It takes longer than usual, about forty-five minutes, to get to the airport due to traffic of the the lunch rush, but Hercules still makes it with more than enough time to spare. He goes to short term parking, already running scenarios, stupid scenarios, through his head, both good and bad. After all, this could go gloriously great, or tragically awful. Hercules could fuck it up ultimately, really. 

Oh god, what if he does? What if he says or does the wrong thing while Lafayette is around? What if Lafayette ends up actually hating him, the real him. The him that isn’t in some foreign city, and country, the him that isn’t behind a camera. Hercules is easily a mess.

Hercules turns off his car engine and just sits for a minute, thinking. He has this. He opens his door, slowly, and gets out of the car, equally as slowly. Keys in hand, he locks the car before walking away, time passing incredibly off. It seems too slow and fast at the same time, as if he is walking too fast, arriving too fast, yet at the same time, not fast enough. Lafayette can’t get here fast enough. 

But time does pass, as slow or fast as it does, and soon enough, Hercules is sitting down in a hard chair down by the baggage claim for Air Canada with only five minutes before Lafayette’s plane is supposed to land, every part of him fidgety. His leg shakes slightly, fingers dancing around each other, eyes moving everywhere, unable to stay looking at one thing. 

Four minutes, and Hercules is out of his seat, walking nowhere and everywhere in a pace. He’s not the only one with such behaviour, he is glad to see.

Three minutes, and he’s no longer pacing, just standing. Not still, but standing, foot tapping, hands moving.

Two minutes. Hercules sits back down. 

One minute, and time almost stops. His phone sits in his hand, on vibrate, as he waits for the text Lafayette said they’d send when they land. But it can’t some fast enough. The clock can’t change fast enough, and just as Hercules finds himself getting a little too restless, it comes. 

**From: CANADA’S FAVE BASEBALL PLAYIN FRENCHMAN >> _Just landed <33_**  
**To: CANADA’S FAVE BASEBALL PLAYIN FRENCHMAN >> _:DD I’m waiting down in baggage claim <3 _**  
**From: CANADA’S FAVE BASEBALL PLAYIN FRENCHMAN >> _< 33 I’ll be there soon just need to wait until we stop moving and can get off <3_**  
**To: CANADA’S FAVE BASEBALL PLAYIN FRENCHMAN >> _Okay!!! <3_**

There’s a small glow settling low in his stomach, a light brought to his eyes that wasn’t there before, replacing all worry that Hercules had felt. Now it’s just anticipation, and joy. Happiness. Lafayette is coming. They’re so near Hercules can almost feel it. 

It’s still a few minutes, with the time it takes to unload the plane and for Lafayette to make their way through the larger airport to the baggage claim. It feels longer than it actually takes, too long, in Hercules’ opinion, but time does pass. And when the people start to move into the large room, Hercules is immediately on the lookout. 

He sees their pants first, as odd as it sounds. Hercules had been glancing down for just a second, but he doesn’t even need to finish his way up to know it’s Lafayette. From the obviously worn, but well kept, running shoes, and the expensive looking grey sweatpants, to bright, slightly too large Blue Jays sweatshirt, it’s all _Lafayette_. Even the way they goddamn walk is them.

Hercules is walking before he really knows what’s he doing, going straight for Lafayette.

Lafayette walks faster than Hercules does when he comes into their sight, long legs making a beeline for him. They meet at an odd middle, but the location doesn’t matter. Hercules has Lafayette in his arms instantly, wrapping his arms tightly around them. 

“Hercules, oh my god,” Lafayette breathes, shoving their face into Hercules’ neck, their own grip matching Hercules’ own. “It’s been too long since we’ve actually seen each other. No computer screens or nothing. No phones.”

Hercules says nothing, can’t say anything, and nods his head with his large smile. God this day is going to be great, he can already tell. With Lafayette here, it’ll be good. Great. Wonderful, Splendid. So many good words, but he doesn’t know how to say them. So he begins to let go, despite his not wanting to, so that he could walk with Lafayette back over to the baggage claim area. It feels incredibly… comfortable, in a way, standing next to his side in the all too familiar position of waiting for luggage to come by. Natural.

“You’ve been good, no?” Lafayette asks, looking over to Hercules with a barely contained smile on their face. “I suppose it hasn’t been long since we talked, but a lot can happen in just a short period of time, is all.” He can practically feel the nervousness and excitement rolling off of Lafayette as they speak.

“I have been more than good, Laf,” Hercules reassures, smiling lightly up at Lafayette. “More than great, now that you’re here.”

“And they say that he French are the hopeless romantics,” Lafayette mutters, shaking their head. Before they can say much more, the belt in front of the two begins to move.

 

“Do tell me that Frosted Flakes is doing well.” It’s the first thing Lafayette says as they drag a suitcase behind them, walking just beside Hercules as he leads the way to the side door of the large apartment in front of them. It’s also not what Hercules was expecting. “I find myself anticipating seeing her, believe it or not. I felt I wasn’t able to properly bond with her through simple video chats.”

Hercules snorts, rolling his eyes. “You weren’t able to bond with her and her dildo snatching powers?” he grumbles without thinking, before feeling his face heat up at what he said. Not that it wasn’t something Lafayette had witnessed themself. He really has no reason to be embarrassed. What happened happened.

“Oh no, that was what made me want to make an effort to bond with her!” Lafayette exclaims, throwing a wide smile Hercules’ way. He’s grateful for their effortless ease of keeping away what could potentially be an incredibly awkward conversation. “Any cat that can do that has my heart for good.”

“Great, now I have to fight to win your affections from a cat,” Hercules says as he types in the quick passcode to the door, a simple 1224. When Lafayette sees Hercules holding the door open for them, they walk by quickly. “As if it wasn’t going to be hard enough to show you that I’m not just some loser.”

They take the small elevator of the Hercules’ floor, the eighth, in relative silence. Lafayette stares ahead at the elevator door while Hercules watches their hand tap restlessly on the handle of their suitcase. It’s not awkward just yet, but it would perhaps be so if Hercules lived any further up in the hotel.

Hercules walks in front, slowly yet swiftly, making his way down to the end of the hall where his room is. As soon as he pulls out his keys, he can vaguely hear the small chime of the bell that rests on his cat’s collar as she makes her way to the door. Despite how she is, she’s always there to welcome him home. It’s so familiar to Hercules after having her for three years. It brings a small tug to his heart to know that she’ll be there for him no matter what.

“What is that sound?” Lafayette asks as she gets closer. Hercules answers by opening the door and quickly stepping inside so that he can, once more, hold the door open for Lafayette, but also to let Frosted Flakes get free access to his legs, which she happily begins to rub herself against, purring loudly.

Lafayette just managed to get their suitcase in past the door and off to the side enough for the door to close before they’re letting go of the bag and crouching down to the crowd. Frosted Flakes gives them a wary look, before looking back up at Hercules expectantly. Hercules smiles gently and bends down to pick her up. Lafayette lets out a huff at the sight of the two, Hercules cuddling her close to his chest and she glows in the attention.

“And you say that _you’re_ the one who will have to tear the attention and affections away from the damn cat,” they tease making their way to Hercules to run a hand down her side.

“Oh shush,” Hercules says. When Lafayette gets in distance, he leans forward just enough to place a small, gentle kiss on the side of Lafayette’s cheek. “You’re more than charming enough for me. Plus, you speak English.”

“I didn’t always speak it,” Lafayette responds, moving their hand to cup Hercules’ cheek so that they can place an equally small kiss on his cheek. “So watch your reasons for keeping me around, monsieur, and we may find ourselves with some interesting issues.”

Hercules feels a warm glow erupt in him at the contact, a warm glow of joy. He can actually kiss Lafayette now. He can touch them and hold them. He can admire them properly. His heart feels ready to burst as he goes to put Frosted Flakes down on the floor. Life is beautiful, for once. Truly beautiful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i actually need to do work and make a cube that is due tomorrow rip ok so follow me on tumblr
> 
> chckov.tumblr.com
> 
> i promise im almost sorta cool sometimes


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy shit im not dead!! but it is a close thing with school lmao fuckin kill me

While Hercules wants nothing more than to cuddle up with Lafayette on the couch and just rest, his cat has other ideas. While Lafayette had settled themself down immediately on his small couch, letting out a long sigh and saying how tired they are, Hercules had gone to make sure Frosted Flakes had water and food, before returning back to his small living room where Lafayette was. At that moment, it had seemed like he had a very good idea, seeing as Lafayette really did look half asleep, but as soon as he had sat down next to Lafayette, the damn cat came running up to the couch and making sure she was more than known by jumping up and getting right in between them.

Not that Lafayette seems to be having many problems with this arrangement. 

“So tell me again why you named her Frosted Flakes,” Lafayette says, gently running their hand down her back, eyes intently watching her reactions. “She is very pretty and doesn’t remind me of breakfast cereals.”

Yes, well Hercules just so happened to be really hungry and wanting Frosted Flakes when he got her. “I just… felt like that was the name for her, was all,” is what Hercules tells them, however. No need to expose the way that his stomach got the best of him. And of his cat.

They go into silence for a few moments, the sound of Frosted Flakes occasionally erupting into a loud purr the only thing really breaking the comfortable silence. But Hercules Hercules can only stay still for so long with Lafayette so close to him, and he soon get fidgety. And after it starts, he can’t stop himself from leaning over to Lafayette, face going warm, and kissing them on the side of their mouth.

As Hercules moves to pull away, Lafayette smiles and grabs his face to keep him there, tilting their forehead forward a little to rest it against his. “Je peux toucher toi,” they mumble, closing their eyes as their smile widens. 

Hercules can’t help but match their smile with his own. “And I can touch you,” he says, and Lafayette’s eyes open again as laughter bubbles in their chest. “Hey, why’re you laughing?”

“I’m happy,” they say, eyes bright and sparkling. “I’m just… Hercules, I am so happy.”

Lafayette goes to get closer to Hercules, trying to get half on his lap, causing Frosted Flakes to make a quick exit, her small white body flying off like a bullet. Neither of them pay any attention to her as Hercules too starts laughing in similar joy, bringing his hands to Lafayette’s hips.

“Can you believe that we’re here together?” Lafayette breathes, going in to kiss Hercules properly on his lips. It’s small, nothing much, but it’s still enough for Hercules’ mind to start going off track, to start narrowing in on Lafayette and only Lafayette. “It felt like it’d never happen.”

“More people have gone longer,” Hercules reminds them, leaning in to kiss Lafayette a little harder than they had kissed him.

“Yeah, but I haven’t ever had to wait this long just to touch someone.”

Hercules makes a small noise of amusement, but doesn’t respond. Instead, he runs his hands up Lafayette’s sides, across their chest and over their shoulders, touching them just as he now can. It feels a bit like a dream to Hercules. This has been front in center of many of them, and there’s that small part of his brain saying that this is just another one of his dreams, and that he’ll wake up any time to Lafayette not being anywhere near the same state as him, to this not having happened. But he continues to touch them in a sort of awe, taking in their body as an infant would a new play area, with pure joy and curiosity. 

Hercules moves his hands back down to Lafayette’s hips, and wraps his hands around the ends of their hips shirt. “Can I take it off?” he asks, looking up to Lafayette with wide, hopeful eyes.

Lafayette looks a look shocked at the question, but quickly nods their head. “Oui, of course. Yes, please,” they say, words spilling out of their mouth. They move their hands down to put Hercules’ and starts tugging it up themself before Hercules pushes them away to pull it up himself.

Hercules has seen Lafayette without a shirt on loads of time, but he’s still struck wordless as he takes everything they have in all at once, trying his hardest to get this non-digitalized version of Lafayette stuck in his head. He never wants to forget this, never wants to forget today just like he never wants to forget the day that he met Lafayette outside of the stadium and found their number later that night. Just like he never wants to forget the museum.

He never wants to forget the way that Lafayette’s stomach curves with the slightest of moves, the way that their whole front moves with their breaths. He never wants to forget a single dpi or curve they have to offer, even the invisible ones that he finds as he slowly runs his hands down their chest and abdomen. The small scars across their side that were invisible from the camera are now in sight, and Hercules finds his hands reaching for them without real thought, his fingers caressing them and the skin around them as Lafayette just does his best to look down and watch him.

They both know this is in no way sexual. While both of their bodies are beyond just starting to react to this, there’s no need for either to tell the other that is isn’t going to go much further. Not right now, at least, but it’s in no way turning Hercules away from exploring what he can of Lafayette, nor does it make Lafayette stop him from doing so. 

Lafayette leans down to kiss Hercules at the base of his neck, right at where his t-shirt meets the skin. When they bring their head back up, the tip of their nose runs alongside his neck until finally they pull away just an inch, only to lean back in to again kiss Hercules on the lips, deeper this time, a little more urgent, but still managing to keep it completely innocent.

Lafayette pulls away after a little bit, eyes soft as they look down at Hercules, yet still filled with an uncontrollable glee and something else that Hercules can’t quite understand. “Je t’aime,” they whisper, smile suddenly falling from their lips for a moment, before weakly coming back. “Je sais que je suis pas- I know that... “ Again, their smile falters, but doesn’t come back this time as their eyes dart away to look to the side of Hercules. “I love you,” they finally manage to say.

Hercules can feel Lafayette’s body grow stiff in his lap, pulling away from Hercules a little. Hercules doesn’t understand why they’re drawing away. Did they think it was wrong to say? Did they think Hercules didn’t return the feelings? Because he did. Lord did he ever.

But Lafayette seems to have thought that they did something wrong, drawing away in what looks to be a sudden panic. “I’m sorry,” they mumble, shaking their head as they attempt to get themself free from their position. “I shouldn’t have said it. I shouldn’t have… I’m sorry.”

Hercules quickly goes to gently wrap his hand around their wrist, tugging ever so slightly to draw them back to him. “What’s wrong?” he asks, his own face’s confusion likely matching Lafayette’s own panic. “Why’re you sorry? What’re you sorry for?”

Lafayette shakes their head again, but doesn’t draw away from Hercules’ light grip on them. “I shouldn’t have said that,” they told him, and Hercules feels his heart begin to crumble in his chest as he sees Lafayette’s eyes go glossy as tears gather in them. “I shouldn’t have done it. I didn’t mean to. It just- it slipped. I shouldn’t have-”

Hercules brings his other hand up to Lafayette face, his thumb moving across their cheek until it hits their lips, making them stop talking. “Don’t… Hey, Laf,” he says gently, going back to stroke their cheek gently. “Shit, there’s nothing to be sorry for, you know.”

“Other than my being an over emotional fool?”

Lafayette always looks so goddamn confident on the field, even when they video chat they usual have this persona of being this hot shot, can-do-anything sort of person that it was easy for Hercules to push aside the way that they’ve had a number of episode like this with Hercules while video chatting, just over things that weren’t confessions of love. Hercules feels like an ass for forgetting, for letting it slip his mind just how fragile Lafayette has been underneath the surface. They put on such a bold face, yet at the same time, the smallest things seem to break them.

“You’re not a fool or being overemotional,” Hercules says quickly, trying to reassure Lafayette. But he isn’t good with words, never has been anything close to a romantic or a real comforter beyond touch, and this task is harder than he really thought it could be. But he doesn’t care. No matter how much he can’t seem to get his mind to give him anything but black spaces as he tries to think of something to do or say, he can’t find it in himself to care about the difficulty. Not right now. 

“Yes I am,” Lafayette insists, letting out a sigh. Their body is no longer stiff, going slightly limp, and Hercules thinks he sees a sad resignation in Lafayette’s eyes as they fall back a little, shifting their weight away from Hercules. “It happens a lot. I don’t know how you manage to put up with it or me.”

“Well, it may very well have something to do with the way that I love you too, you giant fool,” Hercules says, face again heating up beyond reason. “I mean, I don’t know how anybody can’t love you. How they couldn’t love you, is all. You’re just so damn, well, loveable is all. And so I love you.”

Lafayette looks at Hercules in shocked disbelief, their mouth forming a small “o” as they stare at him. “You love me?”

“Of course I love you, you eggo,” Hercules says, finally letting go of Lafayette’s wrist to lightly punch punch their shoulder before bringing both of his hands down.

Lafayette looks at Hercules silently for a few more moments before letting a goofy grin break across their face. “Cheese nipple,” they say, sticking their tongue out between their teeth.

Hercules laughs, and Lafayette joins in with him, turning around so that they can fop backwards onto the couch next to Hercules. “I love you, Laf.”

“Love you too, Herc.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find me on tumblr @shaolinfantlc
> 
> or u can go to shaolinfantastic.co.vu to go and support me and my tumblr :*


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao hey guys i didnt die (except i mean i did die i am dead :o)  
> also idk if the weird ass formatting is just for me or not but the preview has weird widely space paragraphs so if that's how it is for yall... i will try and make sure it aint like that in the next chapters??? idk what it is doing or why it is doing it so :o

“How would you feel about going out for dinner tonight?”

 

Lafayette looks over at Hercules, not quite understanding what he asked, head clouded with a tired fog. “Quoi?” they ask slowly, eyes blinking at a sloth’s rate as they pull the blue blanket around them tighter, finding comfort in the way it hugs their shoulders.

 

“Uh, dinner,” Hercule repeat, licking his lips in what looks like a nervous manner.

 

Dinner. Food, Lafayette’s mind supplies them. They’re also hit with an impossible bundle of nerves for the game in two days, a tight twisting feeling that does nothing but keep anything close to a want for food far, far away from them. “What time is it?” they ask, trying to push the thoughts away from their mind for now.

 

Hercules pulls his phone from his pocket and gives a quick glance to the time before looking back down to where Lafayette is cuddled up into his side, half of their body somehow managing to have some sort of contact with Hercules’. It had been like that since Lafayette had first started to battle the deadly grip of sleepiness two hours back.

 

“It’s three thirty,” Hercules finally answers after a moment of just looking at Lafayette. “I was thinking about leaving in about two hours.”

 

Two hours. That's enough time for Lafayette to pull themself together. Well, they hope it is at least. “Sounds like a good plan,” they say despite a protesting twist in their stomach. “Just nothing too fancy. I have clothes for dressing to impress, but not in a ‘let’s go on a date to a five-star, high class, reservation-only restaurant with a built in opera house’ way.”

 

Hercules laughs at that, and his smile lets a feeling of good and calm settle in Lafayette. They melt even further into Hercules’ side, letting his body heat engulf their very senses. “Definitely nothing too fancy,” Hercules reassures.

 

Lafayette almost feels disappointed that they can’t back out of it. Almost. “Ah, oui. Yes. So no suits or anything?””

 

“No suits,” Hercules confirms. “Hell, you could get away with jeans if you wanted to.”

 

‘If they wanted to.’ Wanted to what? Commit a sin against all of society? “No,” they say quickly. Tiredly. “I will not be wearing jeans.” Good lord. No. The day that they are caught in jeans is the day that hell is freezing over and Alaska goes through an entire winter without a single ounce of snow.

 

“Do I have time for a small nap?” Lafayette asks, looking up at Hercules again, eyes wide.

 

Hercules lets out a small huff of amusement and shakes his head. “Yeah, yeah. You have time to a nap,” he tells them.

 

Thank god. “Bon, bon,” they sigh, already closing their eyes and letting their entire body go lax and limp. “Je suis… oui. Je suis tres fatigue.” And not hungry. But really, they can’t focus on that right now, not when they’re this close to falling asleep. No, all thoughts escape them a they drift to the small edges of oblivion once more. The feel of Hercules below them, his smell, heat, _feeling_ , are the last things Lafayette is aware of before they’re no longer aware of anything in the waking world.

 

 

“Laf.”

 

Lafayette hears the call, but ignores it in favour of cuddling further into whoever was below them, mind barely away from sleep. No coherent thought can make a full formation in their mind.,

 

“Hey, Laf.”

 

Again, Lafayette ignores it.

 

“Lafayette, c’mon.”

 

They let out a soft grunt of annoyance, turning their head away from the source of the voice. “It’s hard to fall asleep when someone is talking like this.

 

“Lafayette, you gotta wake up, we’re leaving in half an hour.”

 

“Non,” Lafayette says firmly.

 

“Yes, Laf.”

 

God, it’s Hercule who insists on bugging them. It really does nothing to make the situation any les annoying. He needs to shut up. “Tais-toi!” they snap. They’re just tired.

 

And then Lafayette begins to move unwillingly as Hercules moves below them. Why can’t he just sit still and let Lafayette sleep? “Up,” he says again.

 

This time, as the heat retracts from them, Lafayette does as asked, and slowly pushes themself up into a sitting position. They open their eyes, and a blurry world is what meets them as their eyes slowly adjust again, a large amount of hair falling into their line of sight. “Quoi?”

 

“We’re leaving in half an hour, dude,” Hercules says, moving a hand to gently push the curly hair out of their face. It doesn’t stay away from long though, and quickly falls back into its previous obstructive spot.

 

Lafayette stares up at Hercule blanketly, their mind slowly but surely registering the words. “Thirty minutes?” they ask slowly. Thirty minutes is half of an hour. At least they thought so.

 

“Yeah, Laf. Thirty minutes.”

 

This means getting dressed. But it also means going out with hercules. However despite the ret, Lafayette still isn’t feeling any want for food. But _Hercules_.

 

“Ah, oui. Yeah, uh… d’accord,” they says before a large yawn break from them. God, they want to sleep. “Do I need to wear something fancy?” Hadn’t they gone over this before? “You sure I can get away with anything?”

 

“I’m saying that you could get away with anything, yes,” hercules confirms. “I uh… well, I thought that, well, the first place you took me wasn’t too fancy-”

 

“Dieu,” Lafayette interrupts with a sudden breath. They really want some coffee. “Je veux- fuck, sorry. Sorry. Continue. I was thinking out loud.”

 

Hercules smiles, but doesn’t comment on the interruption. “I’m not taking you to, you know, McDonald’s or anything, but I thought, five-star really didn’t seem to be your style and all.” It really isn’t. “I was thinking of just going to some small diner, or something. Local of course. Something simple.””

 

And it’s that that helps Lafayette to feel the smallest interest spark in their brain; the smallest particle of pain pops in their stomach, a small reminder that they haven't eaten all day. “That honestly sounds great,” Lafayette tells Hercules. And they mean it. Even if they aren’t going to be able to eat an entire plate of food, they’ll be able to spend time with hercules in a more or less private-public space. They’ll be out in public, but will still be able to have an air of privacy.

 

Plus, they don’t have to dress up.

 

“Good, good,” Hercules says, smiling nervously. “Uh, okay, so are you going to want to change or not?” I can leave real quick if you want to.”

 

Lafayette looks down at themself to look at clothes they’re wearing. Black sweatpants and a light grey tank-top. They crinkle their nose at it. They’re no way they’re leaving this place to out out in this shirt.

 

“Do you have any sweatshirt I could wear?” Lafayette asks. They have yet to even open their suitcase after the flight, and they want to hold it off as long as possible.

 

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Hercules says, going over to his dresser and opening the top drawer. “They're all in here.”

 

They are all so far away.

 

After a few moments, Lafayette drags themself out of bed and walks over to Hercule. They look down into the drawer, and feel delight fill them. It’s almost full with only sweatshirt of all kind, and all of them belong to Hercules. And of them would probably bring heaven to Earth in the event of them wearing it.

 

But they can only choose one. One in particular catches their eye, looking more worn than the others with its faded red colouring signifying just how many times it’s been through the washer. Quickly, they reach for it and pull it out.

 

It’s an old Phillies sweatshirt, one that Hercules has surely had for longer than he’s been on the team. Lafayette snails at the thought and holds it close to their chest. “Can I swear this one?” they ask.

 

“Yeah, of course,” Hercules says ,closing the drawer. “If that’s the one you wanna wear, yeah.”

 

Lafayette immediately pulls it over their head at the words. It feels warm and safe, hanging off of their shoulders. It’s not so big on them that is’ baggy, but it’s still noticeably a size too large. The soft fabric feels nice against their skin and doesn't catch on anything when they move. Best of all is that is smells like Hercules. “It’s comfy,” they say happily.

 

“That all you’re going to change?” Hercules asks.

 

Lafayette nods their head and sticks out their tongue at him. “Yes, that’s all. How about you? You feeling like you need to put on a show?”

 

Hercules’ face twists into an unfamiliar expression. “Oh, no. Definitely not. I’m good like this,” he say. “This” being a black t-shirt with writing Lafayette doesn’t understand and _khakis_. What a nerd.

 

“Well, then, I think we’re ready to go!”

 

“Yeah, I guess we are,” Hercules says. He takes hold of Lafayette’s hand for a second and squeezes it before drawing his hand back to his own side. “Let’s go.”

 

As Hercules walks out, Lafayette follows at his heel, a feeling of joy bursting in their lower abdomen. They are hopelessly and helplessly infatuated, and by now, they love it. They can’t imagine what it’d be like to not be like this, to not have such strong feelings for Hercules. He makes them happy.

 

As they leave the apartment together, Lafayette is sure that to any outsiders, they’re stuck looking like a lovesick puppy as they follow close to Hercules, practically latched on to his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ngl im too lazy to write the date on this because my dick is out for baseball and i couldnt actually think about writing the date?? i may write a small one shot about it a little later but :o i am focused on writing the next day at the baseball game cuz <3


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